Things Fall Apart
by nickyjay
Summary: Serenity is escorted back to Helan by the Alliance Cruiser Orion to an unexpected reception
1. Things Fall Apart Introduction

**_The Second Coming_**

_Turning and turning in the widening gyre_

_The falcon cannot hear the falconer;_

_Things fall apart; the center cannot hold;_

_Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,_

_The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere_

_The ceremony of innocence is drowned;_

_The best lack all conviction, while the worst_

_Are full of passionate intensity.___

_Surely some revelation is at hand;_

_Surely the Second Coming is at hand._

_The Second Coming!  Hardly are those words out_

_When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi_

_Troubles my sight:  somewhere in the sands of the desert_

_A shape with lion body and the ehad of a man,_

_A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,_

_Is moving its slow thights, while all abou tit_

_Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds._

_The darkness drops again; but now I know_

_That__ twenty centuries of stony sleep_

_Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,_

_And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,_

_Slouches towards __Bethlehem__ to be born?_

_W.B. Yeats_

Things Fall Apart – Chapter 1 

The banquet hall was ablaze with light, ceiling and walls hung with banners and the tables along the walls covered in flowers.  Groups of people in formal attire mingled, a good number of the men in dress military uniform.  A band was playing traditional music, barely audible over the hum of conversation.  At one end of the room the ceiling disappeared and a wide vista of stars was visible, partly eclipsed by the curved hull of a space station.  A ship moved gracefully across the field of view, lights glimmering over its surface.  The station is Nexus 7, a hub of trade and transport between the Alliance worlds and the Rim, considered by many to be the last bastion of civilization in a galaxy that becomes progressively more lawless the further from the Core worlds you go.

Inara Serra stood at the top of a wide flight of stairs at the entrance to the banquet hall, staring up at the view port, entranced.  The handsome young Chinese man in uniform who's arm she held stared at her with almost the same expression.

"It's quite breathtaking, isn't it?" he said.

Without taking her eyes off the view, Inara replied, "That it is."

The young man followed her gaze.  "I see it from the deck of our ship almost every shift and it still has me awed.  Imagine, human beings built all this.  It seems impossible."

Inara glanced at him with a smile. "Isn't it amazing what we can accomplish when we put our minds to it?"

He smiled back at her, and there was a moment's pause.  Eventually she suggested, "Shall we join the festivities, Lieutenant?"

He cleared his throat and looked around.  "Yes, I suppose we should."   But he searched the floor below with some trepidation, making no move to do so.  Puzzled, Inara glanced at the crowd.

"Is there someone you were hoping to avoid?"

At first the Lieutenant was surprised, then rueful.  "There's little that escapes a Companion, is there?"  He murmured, adjusting his hat in an unconsciously nervous gesture.  "Actually, I was hoping to avoid my mother.  She has this disturbing habit of introducing me to prospective wives at any given opportunity, and this would be a perfect one.  She's determined to have me married before my next promotion."

Inara smiled a little in understanding.  "You do not want to be married just yet?"

He turned a look on her that was suddenly a lot more serious.  "None of them could ever compare to you."

Years of practice kept her surprise from showing, produced the charming smile and the casual, "You flatter me, Lieutenant.  Thank you."

"I meant it," he said, not allowing her to brush the remark aside.  

Before she could reply he flinched and fumbled at his belt.  Inara became aware of a soft beeping sound, one that seemed to be coming from several directions at once.  More than a little relieved at the interruption, she watched the Lieutenant as he scanned through the message on a small receiver he held in his palm.

"Damn." He frowned and pocketed the receiver, looking annoyed and contrite. "I'm sorry Inara, but I've got to go.  Please forgive me for leaving you like this."

She touched his arm, "Don't apologize, I understand.  Shall I wait for you?"

The Lieutenant grimaced and shook his head.  "I'm afraid you'd be wasting your time."

"You don't expect to be back?"  She asked, surprised.

"They've cancelled all leave," he glanced over his shoulder as another man in uniform brushed past them, heading for the door.  Several others could be seen hurrying towards the exits.  "But I want to finish our evening together.  Can we rearrange for another time?"

She smiled and nodded. "Certainly.  Call me when you can."

He took her hand and bowed over it, then turned and hurried out of the hall.  

Inara watched him leave, hearing several people speculating on what could be happening to prompt the recall.  Guards appeared at the main hall entrance and on other exits around the room, and she saw them shaking their heads at those who asked questions.  When she noticed that the guards were armed, Inara felt the first touch of real fear.  Others noticed too, and there was a palpable change in atmosphere.  From the conversations around her, Inara heard the word 'attack' and 'terrorists', although it can only be speculation.  She said a swearword under her breath, and predictably her thoughts turned to Mal and the crew of Serenity.

"Tyen-shiao duh is going on," she muttered under her breath. "Mal, I could really use your insight about now."  

He would've had some idea of what was happening, he always had an instinct for danger.  No doubt he would already have had a plan for making it past the guards and out of the hall, back to Serenity and off to safety.  He didn't enter a room without checking all the exits, and by long association neither did she.  Inara gritted her teeth, torn between longing for the comfort of his presence and annoyance with herself for succumbing to it.  She had managed not to think about him for a full three days, which was something of a record considering her success rate over the last four months.  Then, just when she could begin to think she was putting all that behind her, something like this had to happen.

The band started up again, a cheerful tune to distract the crowd from unquiet thoughts.  Since it was obvious that no-one would be going anywhere for now, Inara turned away from the door and made her way down to the main floor.  Likely she'd be as safe here as anywhere else on the station.  She glanced up at the view port, but nothing appeared to be moving.  Uncertain and not knowing anyone else in the room, she made her way to the buffet tables that stretched along the walls behind the staircase.  There was an exit there too, and a guard who watched her coldly as she walked over.  But there were also fewer people to fight should she have to reach the doors, and there was a clear view of the view port.  

Looking for a distraction, she took a plate from the table and allowed the waiter to serve her several small delicacies, reminding herself that she hadn't seen food like this once on board Serenity.  But then, it hadn't really seemed to matter.  This was window dressing, luxury, and she hadn't missed it one bit.  It was nothing compared to the void that was left by the friends she'd abandoned.  Nothing compared to the pain she'd felt walking out on Mal.  She could barely forgive herself for that, and she knew that he'd never forgive her for leaving him.  Mal did not deal well with loosing people.

"Are you the Companion Inara Serra?"

Startled, Inara turned sharply.  A Chinese girl of about ten years old stood staring up at her with a frown, hands clasped behind her back.  

"I am," Inara replied, "and who are you?"

"I'm Xuan Wai-Lan.  My brother is Lieutenant Xuan Yuxi."

"Ah," Inara's eyes widened, and she nodded.  "Lieutenant Xuan, my escort.  You are his…." she looked momentarily puzzled.

"Little sister," Wai-Lan replied, bowing.  Inara mimicked the gesture.  

As she straightened, Wai-Lan fixed that same stare on Inara and said matter-of-factly, "I'm not supposed to talk to you."

Taken aback, but amused by the girl's manner, Inara cocked her head slightly. "Really?  Why is that?"

"Because my mother doesn't like you.  She says you're a distraction for Yuxi, and that he should be concentrating on finding himself a wife."

"Oh," Inara kept her features composed.  This wasn't much of a surprise to her, and it was a common enough complaint. "Then why are you talking to me?"  She asked, taking a mouthful of a small pastry.

"Because I think you're beautiful."  Wai-Lan said without guile, studying Inara intently.  "And I wanted to know what a Companion does."

This time Inara did raise an eyebrow, because the girl's honesty demanded some honesty of expression in return.  "A Companion's services are confidential, Miss Xuan.  I cannot discuss them with you, even if you are his sister."

"Oh I know about the sex," Wai-Lan said with a shrug.  "My friend Kai told me that Companions sleep with people for money."  She grimaced.  "Sex sounds icky, so I figured that there must be more to it than that.  He doesn't believe me.  We took a bet on it.  I'm right, aren't I?"  

Inara couldn't help it.  She laughed out loud.  She could just imagine Mal's expression if he'd overheard this conversation, and it was only the hurt frown on Wai-Lan's face that made her control her amusement.  

"I'm sorry, Wai-Lan, I didn't mean to laugh at you.  It's just that not many people are as outspoken as you are.  It took me by surprise."

Slightly mollified, Wai-Lan was self-conscious enough to blush. "Mother is always telling me off for saying what I'm thinking.  But if I didn't ask you, I wouldn't know.  How'm I supposed to find stuff out if I can't ask people about it?" she demanded.

"That is very true," Inara agreed. "And you are right, there is more to being a Companion than just the sex."  She firmly banished any thoughts of Mal's likely response from her mind.  "We learn about people, how to understand them and predict their reactions.  We learn about culture, and how people relate to each other.  And we learn about art, history, theology, music, theatre.  There are many skills a person has to acquire before they can become a Companion."

"I thought so!" Wai-Lan said triumphantly. "My brother said that you have to go to Companion school for years first.  So howcome anyone else I ask only says Companions sleep with people for money?"

Inara smiled wistfully, wondering if she'd ever been this innocent. "Well, sex is a very important part of what we do, because it is one of the most intimate ways in which two people can relate to each other.  It's an aspect of human nature that many people have difficulty talking about, and it makes them very uncomfortable. They find it strange that we Companions think differently."

Wai-Lan looked unconvinced. "Well, I think it sounds disgusting."

Inara smothered a smile and asked casually, "So who told you about sex?"

"Kai," Wai-Lan said blandly.  "He had these pictures, and they just looked silly." 

Then suddenly the girl's head snapped around and she looked back over her shoulder.  "Oh no, my mother's looking for me."

"Will you be in trouble if you are seen talking to me?"  Inara asked her.  

"Probably.  But I'm always in trouble anyway," Wai-Lan replied. She looked back at Inara and smiled.  "Most people won't answer my questions, you know.  My brother was right, you're much more interesting than any of those girls mother wanted him to marry."

Inwardly, Inara flinched.  Oh, that was bound to endear her to Lieutenant Xuan's mother. "Well, perhaps you'd better not mention you've been talking to me.  I wouldn't want you to be in any more trouble."

Wai-Lan shrugged, "OK. I have to tell Kai if I'm going to win the bet, but I'll tell him I'll beat him up if he ever says how I found out."

There was the faintest of shudders felt through the soles of the feet.  Glasses on the tables tinkled and the lights flickered.  Several people cried out in surprise, and Inara felt something cold congeal in her gut.  A space station didn't suffer earthquakes.  The guard on the door was looking nervous, and he touched his earpiece.  She saw his eyes widen.  

"Wai-Lan, I think you should go and find your mother quickly."

Puzzled, the girl asked, "Why did the lights do that?"

"Go to your mother now, mei mei."

It was dawning on Wai-Lan that something was wrong.  Inara could see the fear in her eyes as she searched the crowd.  "I can't see her!"

There was another muffled sound, like a distant explosion.  Abruptly Inara felt the air pressure drop.  Wai-Lan clapped her hands over her ears and cried, "What's happening?"

"Mei mei, be calm.  Look at me." Inara caught hold of the girl's shoulders.  "Do you know where to go if there's an emergency?  Do you remember?" 

Wai-Lan looked around wildly.  "I don't know!  My mother was with me.  Where is she?"

"Miss!  Miss!" It was the soldier, gesturing with his gun as he held open the exit door.  "They've called an emergency!  Go to the nearest center point now, take the girl!"

The waiter who had served her moments before scrambled towards the door, and several people nearby began running in their direction.  The lights flickered again and there were screams.  Wai-Lan whimpered and flung herself against Inara's hold, screaming for her mother.  Struggling to hold onto the child, Inara caught sight of the banquet hall, which was a sea of panicking people.  The exits were crowded and the guards were struggling to keep control.  Wai-Lan would be trampled if she got lost in that.  

High above them the view port was shrinking as massive metal doors slid across, barricading them from space.  As the view beyond was eclipsed, Inara caught sight of ships moving much faster than the one she'd watched a short time ago.  Then suddenly one of them was banking, coming straight for the station.  Inara gasped and tugged Wai-Lan back towards the exit.  Seconds before the view port's doors slid into place she saw light flare along the nose of the ship, and the glass of the view port frosted.  The station shuddered, and they were plunged into chaos and darkness. 


	2. Chapter 2

Things Fall Apart - Chapter 2 

The saloon was crowded, dirty, noisy and obviously not in the expensive end of town.  It was mid afternoon and the place was full of a variety of spacer riff-raff from the nearby shuttle-port.  A vid-screen was playing a noisy re-run Western above the bar, and a couple of pool tables were seeing heavy business.  Wash, Zoe and Jayne were sitting at a table near the entrance, and by the number of empties it was obvious that they'd been there a while.  

Jayne put down his mug.  "Hey, I'm jus' sayin' that we can't sit around hopin' something better'll come along.  We gotta be thinkin' of our options, is all."

Wash, who had one arm around Zoe, shrugged. "I don't see the Captain going for it.  Heck, I wouldn't go for it if we had anything else likely on the horizon."  He looked to Zoe.  "We got anything else likely on the horizon?"

"Nothing that pays," she replied.  "And we haven't got the fuel to get us somewhere that might."

Jayne scowled into his beer.  "We ain't had nothin' worth doin' since Inara left.  Never would've thought one whore could make such a diff'rence."

"Jayne," Zoe said, voice icy, "You use that word in the same sentence as Inara again – ever – and I'll let River play with you."

"And I'll be selling the tickets to the show," Wash added.

The big man flinched and said defensively, "But the Cap'n called her that all the time!"

"That was between him and her," Zoe held his gaze. "Dong ma?"

"Yeah," Jayne grimaced, looking sheepish and annoyed about it.  "'s just I don't unnerstand howcome we ain't had a good job in near on three months."

"He's right, you know," Wash said to Zoe, then blinked and shook his head.  "Now there's a thing I don't say often.  We pretty much been in this slump since Inara left.  I hate to say it, but she was the only claim to respectability that we had.  When she left, our reputation pretty much left with her."

"Well then we're just goin' to have to make ourselves a new one," Mal said, appearing over Wash's shoulder with a handful of drinks.

Wash visibly jumped, "Tzao gao!  Hey there!  Sorry Mal, I didn't mean–I meant I wasn't–you know I wasn't saying nuthin'-"

"Shut up, dear," Zoe said quietly.

Mal took a seat and a long drink of beer, his expression bland. "No need to apologize, it's good to know what everyone's thinkin'.  Cards on the table and all that.  Wouldn't want no-one sayin' they couldn't complain right to my face if they wanted."

Wash looked uneasy, but Jayne leaned forward and said in an earnest tone, "Then what about that freighter contract?  's good, steady money, no-one shootin' at us, bit of smugglin' on the side to make it worth our while-"

"Nope," Mal said flatly.

"We ain't even got the fuel to get off this rock!" Jayne waived a hand at the dingy saloon.  "We got no choice!"

"I ain't workin' for another man and that's final," Mal matched Jayne's stare.  "You gotta problem with that, I ain't keepin' you."

Jayne swore, got up and stormed off to the bar.

Mal sighed and looked at Zoe. She returned his gaze without comment.  

"Ain't like we can't get ourselves some respectable trade," Mal said, trying not to sound defensive and knowing he was failing. "Just going through a dry spell right now, is all."  He rubbed the back of his neck and sat back, his face set mulishly.  "'sides, we're too damned near that space station.  Place is crawling with Alliance brass.  Sure as shit happens someone'd have a problem with that."  He didn't mention River and Simon by name, even though it was damned unlikely anyone here'd know who they were.  Alliance soldiers could afford better quality drinks in a better quality establishment.  Still, it never hurt to be careful. "We gotta get a job heading back out to the Rim, where we belong."

"Can't say I like it any more'n you do, sir." Zoe said calmly.  "But Jayne's right.  We ain't got the fuel to get us off this moon without a payin' job.  And there's no-one heading out to the Rim right now, not with all the Reaver attacks that've been happening.  People are scared.  No-one wants to be flyin' too far from home these days." She paused until she saw Mal's expression turn from stubborn to thoughtful.  "Way it's been going, it may be that we'd all be safer closer to the Alliance," she added.

Mal grimaced.  "Haulin' freight.  Nyaow suh, never thought it'd come to this."

"Ain't such a bad job," Zoe leant her elbows on the table.  "No need to give a passenger manifest on a cargo ship, so no-one'd be askin' us more'n how many's on board.  We got lotsa ways to hide a body if it comes to that.  Get us a six-month contract, some credit in the bank, wait until the Reaver activity dies down and people be headin' back out to the Rim.  Could a few of us do with not bein' shot at for a time."

Mal glanced at Zoe again, at Wash sitting with his arm around his wife, and found himself feeling suddenly achingly lonely.  He knew that Zoe was right, but it irked him more than he could say to be forced into considering hiring his ship and his crew out to some second-rate, low-down, under-handed – he'd even go so far as saying 'petty' - freight hauler with a reputation almost as low as their fuel tanks.  

How'd he ever let it get this bad?  

He knew he should've started looking for someone to take on the rental of Inara's shuttle – crap, there he went again calling it 'her' shuttle as though she'd actually had some stake in Serenity – but he couldn't bring himself to do it.  It hadn't helped that Kaylee had taken to spending almost all her free time in there, when she wasn't staring calf-eyes at Simon that is.  And then there'd been that day when River had disappeared and they'd searched Serenity high and low, only to find her asleep on the floor of the shuttle three hours later.  They all missed Inara, even Jayne in his way, and the way her name kept cropping up in their conversations was like salt in an open wound.  Maybe that was what made it so hard for him to forget.

"We'll give it till the end of the week," Mal said.  "We got until then to accept. Zoe, you an' me see if we can't come up with something better.  If not," Mal stared into his beer, feeling a weary sense of resignation settle on his soul, "if not, well then we know we ain't got God on our side."  

The three of them sat at the table staring into their drinks, a small island of silence in the middle of the crowded room.

---------------------------------

Not so far away, in a less noisy, less crowded, less grimy bar in a slightly better part of town, Kaylee and Simon sat having a drink and watching the vid screen above the bar.  

"I don't understand," Simon said, frowning at a woman wearing not much clothing pictured on the screen.  "I mean, it's hardly flattering is it?  There's nothing to it."

"Funny how some people can look good in almost anything, isn't it?"  Kaylee said with a smile.  "Now me, I'd just look like a prize idiot wearing something like that."

Simon looked slightly disconcerted and Kaylee wondered if he was picturing her in that outfit.  If so, his expression wasn't what she'd been hoping for.  And he didn't take the opportunity to tell her that she looked good enough as she was either.  Kaylee sighed.  Here she was giving the man chance after chance, and he seemed completely oblivious.  Perhaps what Inara had said about him was true after all.

"So what should we do now?"  She asked.

"What?"  Simon looked puzzled.

"I said, 'What shall we do now?'" Kaylee repeated patiently.  "I mean here we are, nothing to do but amuse ourselves all afternoon…"

He was still frowning.  "Kaylee, we're flat broke."

"Well, yeah, I know."  She toyed with a placemat.  "I can think of a few ways to keep ourselves occupied that wouldn't cost nuthin'."

The frown stayed.  "I guess we could go down to the river again if you want," he said reluctantly.  "Or we could go back to Serenity.  I should check in on River soon.  I imagine our good Shepherd has had about enough of her by now."

Kaylee stared at him, then stared mournfully into her beer, wondering if she was ever going to get Simon to pay her half the regard he paid his sister.

"Don't you think the Cap'n's been kinda strange these last few months?"  She asked, changing the subject in self defense.

"Uh, what?"

"He's been kinda…grouchy, I guess.  Grouchier than usual anyway.  I haven't seen him smile in a while neither."

Simon looked surprised, and Kaylee could see him giving the problem serious thought.  She smiled a little, thinking how he always took stuff so seriously, even her wayward conversations.  It was one of the many little things she loved about him.  

"He's probably worried because we haven't had much work recently," he said after a while.  "It's been pretty bad, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess," Kaylee played with the placemat some more. "But I think it's more'n that.  I think he misses Inara."

"I think we all miss her," Simon said, looking at the wistful expression on Kaylee's face and wanting to see her smile again.  Talking about Inara only ever made her sad.  He tried to think of a way to change the subject, to cheer Kaylee up, but he was drawing a blank.

"No, I meant I think he _really_ misses her," Kaylee said with some emphasis. "He just ain't been the same since she's been gone.  Like he's lost something precious."

Simon's eyes widened.  "You think that the Captain and Inara were…that they…No, Kaylee, I'm sure that wasn't the case."

Kaylee gave Simon a 'Don't be stupid' look.  He looked astounded.

"But they fought all the time!"

"And any fool would know that they were sweet on each other because of it," Kaylee said.  "It's so sad that they never got together.  I think they'd make a wonderful couple."  She drifted off into a reverie, sighing deeply.  "I wonder why they didn't never do anythin' about it?"

Simon was still struggling with the concept, shaking his head. "I…I just don't see it Kaylee.  I mean, she's a Companion.  Surely they have some kind of rule forbidding that kind of thing?  Besides, I don't see how Mal would allow…" his voice trailed off.

Kaylee wasn't listening.  She was staring over his shoulder, her eyes huge and her face pale with shock. 

"Kaylee?"  He asked softly, then when she ignored him, "Kaylee!  What is it?"

She'd put one hand up to her mouth and he could hear her whispering something under her breath.  She pointed with the other hand and made a sound like a stifled sob.  Simon spun around in his chair.  She was pointing at the newscaster, which was showing pictures of fire and darkness and running figures.  At the bottom of the screen was a legend, and Simon squinted to read it.

"Breaking news: Reaver attack on Nexus 7."

There was a subtle change of atmosphere in the bar as people began to notice.  The manager, sensing interest, turned up the volume.  A presenter was speaking while the footage of chaos continued on the other half of the screen.

"Breaking news this hour is that an attack by so-called 'Reavers' has been reported on the space station Nexus 7.  Initial reports indicate that this is the biggest single offensive ever carried out by these heavily armed and extremely dangerous anarchists, with an estimated 12 ships involved in the attack on the Alliance stronghold.  Heavy fighting is ongoing between Alliance troupes stationed on the Nexus 7 and the Reavers, with reports of casualties mounting as the Alliance attempts to prevent the Reavers from gaining control of this vital link between the Core and its outlying settlements.  There are also an estimated seven hundred civilian personnel and travelers on Nexus 7.  We do not as yet know whether any evacuation attempt has been made.  We have not been able to establish a direct communication link with Nexus 7 command and so we are unable to bring your more details at this time, but please stay tuned for the latest developments."

"Wu de tyen ah," Kaylee said softly, and Simon turned back to find her with tears streaming down her face. 

"Kaylee, it's alright," he said, reaching across the table and catching her hand, "We'll be safe here.  Besides, there are troupes stationed on Nexus 7, they'll be able to hold off a lot of disorganized rabble like the Reavers."

"You don't understand!" She almost shouted at him, "Simon, Inara is on Nexus 7!"

He stared at her, gaping in shock.  "How…how do you know that?" He asked numbly.

"Because we've been sending each other waves every week since she left," Kaylee said helplessly.  "I didn't tell you because I thought it'd upset the Cap'n if he found out, and I didn't want you to be in trouble as well.  She told me three days ago that she was on Nexus 7.  Oh God, Simon, we've got to tell him!"

---------------------------------

Back at the saloon the inhabitants were crowded around the newscaster, which had been switched over from the Western to the local news broadcaster.  The normal noise level had dropped several decibels as people watched with varying degrees of disbelief, confusion and fear.  Mal, Zoe, Wash and Jayne stood staring glumly at the screen.

"I don't get it, sir," Zoe said, folding her arms and frowning.  "Reavers attacking together?  That's not their style."

"Mayhap they changed their style," Mal replied.  "Got bored with picking us off one by one."

Jayne shuddered. "Shee niou! last thing we need is for Reavers t' git organized."

"We don't know it's Reavers for sure yet, do we?"  Wash asked, looking worried. "I mean, it's not like they have some sort of uniform or anything."

Mal stared at the screen, looking thoughtful.  "Can't think of anyone else it'd likely be.  Imagine we'd of heard if there was any Independents out there thinking of makin' a last stand," he shared a glance with Zoe. "No-one else I can think of 'd have the will and the means to bring such an attack."

"Neither did the Reavers, so far as we know," Zoe commented.  "But these last few months may mean that's changed.  Could've got themselves a leader."

"Why'd they attack the station, though?"  Wash asked.  "I mean, settlements and ships I can understand, but what'll they do with several million tons of metal in the middle of the black?"

Mal shrugged, "Can't say I know how a Reaver's mind works, but mayhap one of them's gone and got ambitious.  Wants his own empire, one to rival the Alliance.  Best way to control this sector of the galaxy is to hold that station.  Either that or they're lookin' ta hold the place for ransom. Trouble is, makes you an easy target.  Once you hold it, you gotta keep it, an' that place don't support itself."

"Mayhap they gotta plan for that too," Zoe said softly.  Mal looked at her, frowned. 

"The planet?" He asked as softly.

"What, the planet we're circling right now?" Wash asked, his voice going up several octaves.  "You think they're heading this way?"

Several people suddenly seemed to be taking an interest in their conversation.

"Bao bei, you think you could keep your voice down?" Zoe said gently, with a hint of steel in her tone. "Don't want to be startin' no rumors or panic, not with us in the middle of it."

Wash cleared his throat and looked embarrassed.  He laughed, threw and arm around Zoe and kissed her on the cheek.  "Now don't go taking on so, darlin'.  We're perfectly safe here," he said loudly.  "Whole town's full of Alliance troupes, you ain't got nuthin' to worry about."

The eavesdroppers lost interest, and Wash said under his breath, "Go se, sorry Cap'n."

Mal let it go.  "We'd best be thinkin' of ways off this rock, and fast," he said.  "Trouble like this, we could be headin' for a state of emergency.  Then no-one's going nowhere without Alliance's say-so."

"An' jus' how we gonna do that?"  Jayne asked, leveling a glare at Mal.  "Ain't got ourselves enough fuel to make it nowhere but the planet as it is."

At that moment, Kaylee came through the crowd, elbowing people out the way and calling for the Captain.  She was crying, and Simon had one arm protectively around her.  Mal immediately took a few steps towards them and helped them through, taking Kaylee by the shoulders.

"Kaylee xin gan, calm down!  What you makin' all the fuss about? Got us a town full of Alliance troupes here, an' the Reavers' already got their hands full."

"Cap'n, I'm so sorry..." Kaylee sobbed, but she couldn't seem to say any more.  Mal looked at Simon in concern.  Simon took a breath and blurted out,

"Inara's on that station."

There's a frozen moment when they all stood staring at each other.  Then Mal said in a cold voice, "What?"

"It's true," Kaylee managed between sobs.

"Inara's on Nexus 7," Simon repeated.  "She and Kaylee have been corresponding, and she's been there these last few days."

"Wu de tyen ah," Zoe whispered under her breath.  Both she and Wash looked at Mal, sympathy etched on their faces.  Mal let his hands drop and just stared at Kaylee.  Her face crumpled.

"Oh Cap'n, please forgive me.  I never meant to lie to you, but she's my friend.  We promised each other we'd stay in touch.  Cap'n, we have to help her.  Please!"

"Mei mei, there's nothing we can do," Zoe said gently, taking Kaylee's hand.  

Mal took a step back, distancing himself from Kaylee and Simon.  He couldn't get breath in the crowded, smoke-filled saloon.  He rubbed his mouth, then noticed how badly his hands were shaking.  God, it hadn't hit him this hard in years.  He'd kinda got used to not loosing people.  Even if Inara hadn't been on Serenity, he hadn't known how much comfort he'd taken from knowing she was somewhere out there, safe and well.  Until now.

"Sir?"  It was Zoe, her eyes dark with sympathy and an understanding that no-one else could share.  "Sir, I think we should go back to Serenity.  Kaylee's not doin' too well."

Hell, _he _wasn't doing too well, but he was glad she knew better than to make that point.

"We must be able to do something!" Kaylee was saying, her voice cracking with the strain. "Inara's smart, she can look after herself.  Space station that size there's sure to be somewhere to hide!  And those soldiers?  Couldn't they hold out against the Reavers for a time?"

"Mebbe," Jayne said. "Mebbe not.  Reavers don't fight by no rules them Alliance soldiers ever learned."  He'd taken out one of his guns and was giving it a careful look over.

Wash glared at the big man and said, "She's right, it is a big place.  Lots of ways to hide yourself on a station that size," He looked at Zoe, trying to sound hopeful.  Zoe smiled a little wistfully at him, but didn't reply.  He took her hand.

Kaylee was leaning against Simon, and suddenly turned to bury her head against his shoulder.

"Hey," Simon put his arms around her and stroked her back awkwardly. "You're right, you know.  Inara is clever, if anyone can think her way out of this it'd be her."

Mal's thoughts were chasing themselves around in circles.  _She's gone_.  It's a big place, a space station like that.  Inara's smart, she can look after herself.  _She's gone, and none of it means anything_.  What about the soldiers?  The newscast hadn't said that the station had fallen to the Reavers, only that there was heavy fighting.  Perhaps she had made it to a safe place.  Reavers don't take prisoners and they don't leave anyone behind.  _God, don't let her die like this.  Not like this._  They wouldn't be fighting by any rules those Alliance flyboys would be familiar with.  This was a guerilla war._  You've taken so much from me, don't take her as well_.  Think, think!  What do you know?

He took a breath.

"Simon, take Kaylee back to the ship.  Wash, Jayne, I want Serenity shut up airtight.  No-one is to go on or off unless I say so, you hear?"

Kaylee began to protest, but Mal raised a hand.  "Me an' Zoe will be goin' over to the local law enforcement, find out what's what.  As soon as we know anything, we'll tell you.  Alright?"  

Kaylee subsided.  

Mal turned to Wash and Jayne.  "Situation like this, people gonna be actin' stupid.  Plenty of them gonna try to make a run for it, maybe try to sneak on board, take Serenity. That's not going to happen." He said flatly.  Wash nodded hurriedly, Jayne scowled and hefted his gun.  "You keep those airlock doors shut until you hear me or Zoe outside.  On no account open them for nobody, not even Alliance brass, got me?  If it looks like they want to commandeer Serenity, get her off this rock.  Don't care where you take her, just don't loose my ship to no Alliance soldier."  Wash nodded again and Jayne grinned. "Well?  What you still here for?" Mal asked.

Jayne moved, and people looked at him and moved out the way.  Simon, Kaylee and Wash followed in his wake.

"Sir, you got an idea?" Zoe asked quietly.

"Nope," Mal replied.  "Just don't want them knowin' that." He started to make his way out of the saloon.  The streets outside were crowded, people going every which way, most looking like they didn't know what they were going there for.  People just wanted to be moving at times like this.  Zoe and Mal paused to look around.

"Ai ya, but this brings back some memories," Zoe commented.  "Mostly not good.  You think maybe Inara made it?"

Mal sighed, didn't look at her.  "Can't say.  Depends on too many things, none of which we know right now.  Kaylee's right, she's not stupid.  If there's a way, she'll find it."  As if realizing he was allowing himself some hope he said, "Still, not my kind of odds."

Zoe studied the dirt.  "Kinda forgot what it was like," she said softly.  "Ain't lost a person in a long time.  It's not a feeling I needed to be reminded of."

"Me either," Mal said shortly.  

Lifting her head and shaking off the dark mood in a way Mal remembered and was ever thankful for, Zoe looked around speculatively.  "Times like these maybe we can make some kinda way.  I figure they're gonna try for evacuation, bein' as we're so close to that station.  We got a ship can take a couple 'a hundred people if they be travelin' light.  All we need is some fuel."

"Knew there was a reason we was still friends," Mal said, even managing a slight smile. "Lets go make us a deal."

**Glossary**

Wu de tyen ah – dear God in heaven

Xin gan - sweetheart


	3. Chapter 3

Title:  Things Fall Apart – Chapter 3 

**Chapter Summary:  **This is the slow part, where Mal and the crew of Serenity come to grips with the news of the attack on Nexus 7 and begin to try to deal with it.  An opportunity presents itself, but every decision has its own inherent dangers.

Spoiler alert for anyone who may not have seen the unaired episodes in the US.

**For those who may not know….**

**Turning and turning in the widening gyre**

**The falcon cannot hear the falconer;**

**Things fall apart; the center cannot hold; **

**Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,**

**The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere**

**The ceremony of innocence is drowned;**

**The best lack all conviction, while the worst**

**Are full of passionate intensity. **

**(excerpt from The Second Coming, W.B. Yeats)**

Predictably the offices that housed the local law enforcement looked like they were under siege.  It took Mal and Zoe the better part of an hour to make their way through the throng of people spilling out into the street.  When they eventually got through the door they could at least watch the newscasts while they waited, although there was little new to report.  Communications were sketchy, which was about normal for a Reaver attack.  The first thing they did was knock out the communications array.  

It did seem that several passenger liners and transport vessels had managed to make it off the station.  They were being escorted by a couple of Alliance warships as far as Helan, which was the nearest planet with a military base of any size.  The reporter added that there was no news on the status of the Alliance's new colony ship, the _Serendipity_, which had been berthed at Nexus 7 in preparation for her maiden voyage.  She didn't appear to be among those heading for Helan, although the reporter was carefully avoiding drawing any conclusions from this fact.  The whereabouts of the Alliance's flagship generated quite a lot of speculation amongst the watching crowd.  A lot of local government budgets had taken cuts to fund her billion-credit construction fee.  It hadn't escaped Mal's notice that sentiments about _Serendipity_ could easily be divided between pro-Alliance and Independent.

An Alliance spokesman came on to the newscast – white haired, handsome in his dress uniform, his manner a mixture of geniality and condescension – saying how the Reavers had been perpetrating terrorist attacks in this sector of the galaxy for years.  This attack was a little bolder than normal, but nothing new.  They preferred hit-and-run tactics and always fled at the first sign of concerted resistance.  It was unusual for them to attack an Alliance strong post like the Nexus 7 and they would soon be shown the error of their ways.  He was sure this would all be cleared up by this time next day.  

As Mal and Zoe elbowed their way through the last of the crowd towards the front desk, a harassed-looking man in uniform raised his voice to shout above the din.

"Ain't no-one callin' it an evacuation, but Alliance on Helan just confirmed they'll be takin' in any civilians as wants to put some distance between themselves and the Reavers.  Priority's been given to securing settlements until this little ruckus is cleared up, but they ain't got the manpower t' be patrollin' every ranch house in this sector so I'd suggest you take what you can carry an' git.  Sergeant says anyone who's got a ship as can take an extra body ta volunteer to do so.  Got a little incentive for those as do volunteer…" and as a slight expectant hush fell, the officer grinned. "You don't get to explain to my Sergeant why you don't."

"I gotta ship," Mal said with his best helpful smile.  "Can fit about a hundred bodies on board, so long as they be travellin' light."  

The officer eyed him warily.  "Name?"

"Malcolm Reynolds."

The officer punched some keys on his palm com and squinted at the display, then fixed Mal with a glare.  "Your ship's Firefly class."

"Yup, that she is," Mal agreed.

"Could fit two hundred in one of them cargo holds," the officer said accusingly. "Sergeant ain't gonna look kindly on anyone sellin' places to folks what've got a right to one free."

Mal looked affronted, but Zoe cut in quickly before he could speak. "Problem is we ain't got the fuel, sir.  Been runnin' a little low on hire these past few weeks, tanks near enough empty.  We'd like to volunteer sir, but we won't be goin' nowhere without someone can fill us up."

The officer's face registered a world-weary cynicism. "I'll go see what I can do for you good citizens," he sighed.

He headed into a back room and Mal leaned an arm against the desk, muttering, "These are hard times, man's got to think of makin' a livin'.  Did you notice that he left his radio behind?" He asked Zoe under his breath.  

She watched the officer's retreating back and replied, "That I did, sir."

Mal leaned both arms on the counter, angling his head so that he could hear the coms chatter better over the noise of the crowd.

The first voice he heard had a tone he immediately assigned to a man standing watching the newscasts from this side of the galaxy.

_"…medical teams, ground and air support.  Repeat, removal of civilians to Helan in progress, request confirmation of estimated arrival time for reinforcements, over." _

_"….that's a negative, negative…estimate seventy-two hours to rendezvous.  Alliance forces rerouted…Nexus 5…no further support possible at this time. Over."_

There was a silence, then a cautious question as though the man hadn't quite believed the answer.  

_"Sir, please confirm that you understood we are unable to lend further assistance to Nexus 7 at this time."_

_"Confirmed.  Priority given…secure settlements, any and all means…. Over."_

"Seventy-two hours," Zoe murmured. "Tzao gao, long time to wait for backup.  Hope they're right about this bein' a little ruckus."

"'Any and all means'.  Think that means they'll be formin' a militia?" Mal asked in return.

"Sir," Zoe said softly, a warning in her voice.  

Without looking up Mal stood and stretched slowly, then smiled at the officer approaching the desk.  The man looked at him suspiciously and turned down the volume on his radio, but as he shouldn't have left it there in the first place he made no issue of it.

"You'll have your fuel," the officer said grudgingly.  "Take this form to the depot, get them to sign it.  There'll be officers at the port makin' arrangements for your passengers.  Make sure an' give them your name."

Quickly scanning the content, Mal smiled grimly.  Nothing like filling up on the Alliance's expense account. Then, fighting the same sense of dread he'd had since he'd first heard, he finally made himself ask, "They got the names of those that got off the station yet?" 

The man looked at him with a slight change in expression that may have been sympathy.

"Half this moon got someone on that station," he said gruffly, and gestured left where a group of men were crowded around a pile of paper.  "No confirmed casualties yet, but that'll give you anyone who's on their way to Helan."

Mal got his turn with the list.  He scanned it twice, put it down.  

"She on it, sir?"  Zoe asked, although she already had an idea what the answer was from Mal's set face.

"Nope.  She ain't on it."

He strode out of the station, heedless of the people in his way.  Zoe sighed as she watched him go, following more slowly in his wake.  

They reached Serenity without exchanging a word.  Wash was in the mess having a cup of coffee with the Shepherd.  He watched Mal stalk past and asked Zoe softly,

"No news then?"

Zoe shook her head and continued on to their cabin.  Wash followed as she knew he would.  She got inside, waited for him to shut the door and let out a pent-up breath.

"Gorram this go se 'verse, how much more does it think it can take from a man?"

Wash leant back against the door, watching her pace, his expression thoughtful.

"You think it's going to be bad?"

Zoe stopped pacing and looked at him.  She felt close to tears.  "I just…don't know how many more times he can come back from that place, Wash.  I don't know if he's got it in him anymore.  There's so little left as it is…"

Wash pushed himself away from the door and caught her hands, feeling her grip tighten fiercely and managing not to wince at her strength.  "He's got you.  Us.  Serenity."  

She turned her head a little and he saw tears, "If anyone ever deserved God's mercy," she murmured.

"Hey, bao bei," his heart twisted at her pain and he pulled her into his arms.  "We're not gonna let him give up, you hear?  _We're_ not gonna give up.  This is a good thing we've got and it's worth fighting for.  Sometimes some of us are going to get weary, but there's others of us can carry the load a while.  That's what family's for. Dong ma?"

She sniffed, resting her head on his shoulder.  "So when did you get so philosophical?"  She asked, holding on to him, drawing strength from him.

"About the time you got all weepy and girlified on me," he teased gently, then pulled back a little and brushed the tears from her face.  He kissed her, then looked at her with an uncharacteristically sober expression.  "It's not about mercy, love.  It's not about justice or fate.  It's about makin' the best way you can, takin' the time to value what's real and true in this cold, hard 'verse.  Like people you care about and who care about you."  He smiled a little, looking at her almost wonderingly.  "You're the one who told me that, remember?  Mal's got a good friend in you, a real friend.  He's a lucky man."

She put her hands on either side of his face and kissed him slowly.  "I'm lucky too," she whispered. 

-----------------------------------------------

It was pitch dark and the field was bathed in glaring white light from the floodlights on the Alliance cruiser parked in the middle of it.   There were a dozen ships of all shapes and sizes scattered around the perimeter, and perhaps twice that many circling above.  Serenity came in to land, Wash carefully juggling the controls to set her down gently.  Didn't want to upset those customers that'd paid to make their journey as smooth as possible.

Mal was first down the ramp, Shepherd Book behind him.  Mal eyed the controlled chaos on the ground while Book gestured to a group of frightened and confused people standing in the hold, staring out at the darkness.

"We're here people, so it's time to be moving.  Slowly now, don't want anyone loosing their feet on this ramp."

Zoe joined Mal, hands resting on hips.  "Got themselves pretty well organized it seems," she said as they watched a young man in Alliance uniform driving up on a scooter.

"Yep. 'Cept for the part where they have to wait seventy-two hours for reinforcements," Mal said blandly as the Alliance officer stopped the scooter at the foot of the ramp, got out and walked over.  As he got closer Mal revised the estimate of his age downwards, the kid couldn't be more than 18.

"Name and ship designation," the boy said, not even looking at them but staring at the crowd descending the ramp with a weary resignation.  Mal could almost feel sorry for him.  It wasn't even a day into this crisis and the kid thought he was tired?

"Name's Captain Malcolm Reynolds, ship's Serenity.  Got a hundred and eighty-eight evacuees from Peleg on board, hope you got somewhere to put them."

The boy stared at him, unamused.  "There is no evacuation.  This is a controlled removal of civilians.  We'll have the situation under control shortly."

"Looks like an evacuation to me, sir."  Zoe said calmly, taking in the crowded field.  

"You reading that speech off a card, son?" Mal asked.

The soldier's face flushed with annoyance. "Everyone's to report to me before they exit the ship.  Name and place of origin," he snapped, taking out a palm com and busying himself with it, dismissing them without comment. 

"He's gonna be a General without doubt," Mal said under his breath to Zoe.  She smothered a smile.

To Mal's relief the Shepherd took it upon himself to organize the mob, getting them to line up so that the young officer could take names. Mal watched for a bit, shook hands with a couple of the paying customers – the empty crew quarters and the shuttles had taken a few happy to hand over a little extra for some comfort and privacy on the eight-hour journey – and then told Zoe he was going to have a look see and get an update on things.

By now a couple of the faster cruisers that had made it away from Nexus 7 had landed and crowds of people were milling around the field of tents set up not far from the landing site.  Mal made his way over there and had a wander around.  There was a triage tent set up at the edge of the field away from the living quarters, and Mal could see that some of those taken off the Nexus 7 were soldiers.  Injuries ranged from cuts and broken bones to burns and smoke-inhalation, and at the back he saw stretchers with bodies covered in white sheets.  Not many, not yet.  It looked like most of the injuries came from explosions or collapsing structures.  Mal hazarded from this and from snippets of conversation that most of these soldiers had been helping evacuate the civilians.  It didn't seem that they'd seen much of their attackers.

A board had been posted with lists of those who'd reported in to the camp.  The crowd was thick around it and Mal turned away, knowing that with the chaos the lists were very likely already out of date.  The list of the dead wasn't nearly as crowded, most people were still hoping those missing would turn up otherwise.  Mal made himself look and then knew it was a mistake.  Hope was like acid in his gut.

A command center had been set up not far from the Alliance cruiser.  With the crowds it wasn't difficult to make his way up fairly close, and he could see that he wasn't the only one trying to find out a bit of information this way.  There were men and woman, most silent or talking quietly, watching the activity in and around the tent with sharp eyes and grim expressions.  Some wore brown coats and carried guns that were obviously well used.  Others, civilians he would have guessed, had the blank look of those who've been awakened to a familiar nightmare.  

He stepped up behind a couple of men, ranchers by the look of them, and nodded greeting.  They introduced themselves, shook hands.

"Hal Peterson, this here's my brother Andy."

"Malcolm Reynolds.  Anythin' new?"

Hal, a big man with hair going grey and a face that'd seen a lot of sun over a lot of years, shugged.  "Depends.  Got a couple of shiploads of refugees off that tin can, but not many's makin' much sense of what they saw.  Lots of ships, all shapes 'n sizes, didn't seem ta be very well organized accordin' to the soldiers.  Still, three to one gives you a bit of leeway when it comes to organization."

"That it does," Mal agreed. "That what the odds are?"

Peterson grimaced, "Been a while since the war, they don't keep as many troupes there as they used to.  Best we can figure the Alliance got themselves half a dozen ships with any kind of armament stationed at Nexus 7, the rest are all cargo or transport."

"Ain't they got enough ships elsewhere t' give them a hand?" Mal asked, pretending ignorance of the seventy-two hour delay from the Core.

"Alliance brass says there's no need.  Seem to think their soldier boys up there can handle a few Reavers," Hal's voice didn't carry much inflection, and Mal glanced at him wondering if he believed that. 

"So they're sure it's Reavers then?" 

Hal and Andy exchanged a look and Hal gave Mal a quick assessment.  "Seems so.  Priority's been given to protectin' settlements.  You know Reavers, could be there's thirty ships waitin' to swoop in when the cruisers leave."

Mal met the man's gaze. "That'd be a first, them thinkin' of settlements before they protect their own interests.  There's a lot of money sittin' up there, would've thought they'd have been a little more concerned about Reavers puttin' their paws on their nice, shiny station."

"You'd 've thought they'd be a little more concerned about that new colony ship," Hal's brother replied.  "Nearly finished from what I hear.  Taken em three years to get the thing up and runnin'."

"Yeah.  _Serendipity_, wasn't it?  Alliance's bright new hope."

"Yup," the other man replied.  "Gonna be their flagship, openin' up new worlds for them to walk in and take over."  The bitterness in Andy's voice had Hall glancing at Mal and making a soft warning sound.

Mal smiled a little grimly.  "Too much to think the 'verse is goin' to teach them the error of their ways," he said to reassure them where his sentiments lay. "Hope they're right about their boys up there bein' able to handle this.  Reavers don't fight by the same rules as us civilized folk."

Andy glanced at him with an equally grim little smile.  "Mayhap they'll give them a run for their money, then."  

-----------------------------------------

The last of the evacuees was making their way down the ramp and Zoe heaved a sigh of relief.  Jayne was doing a quick sweep of the hold, making sure no-one had got themselves left behind.  Zoe watched the young Alliance soldier and thought how strange it was to be a civilian in this situation.  She didn't like the feeling much.  It left her with a sense of powerlessness, although she'd quite had her fill of fighting.  Zoe found herself almost feeling sorry for this young man.  He was likely to see things that no man should have to see, and she could still remember a time when she'd been able to bite into an apple without wondering if she'd get her head blown off.  That kind of ignorance, of innocence, was something she missed at times with an intensity that could almost have been pain.

Lost in thought, it took several seconds for Zoe's eyes to register what she was seeing - River standing at the top of the ramp and peering out into the glare and the darkness.  Zoe shot a glance at the Alliance soldier, but he was busy processing the last of the refugees and hadn't noticed.  Moving purposefully but not with enough urgency to catch his attention, Zoe put herself in between him and their stowaway.

"River," she said under her breath as she reached the girl, "Get inside, now."

The girl tried to peer around her, the usual childish frown she wore creasing her brow.  "I wanted to know if we were there yet," she asked querulously.  "I couldn't see, the door was shut."

"Yes honey, the door was shut because there are soldiers outside.  You need to stay out of sight."  Zoe had taken her by the arm and was trying to back her up, but River twisted herself free and shook her head as though Zoe was being particularly silly.

"No-one's looking," she told her irritably.  "It's all fallen apart, the center cannot hold.  They get dizzy trying to see the stars."

"Be that as it may, you got to stay out of sight.  You'll worry your brother."

The words were hardly out of Zoe's mouth before Simon hurtled out of the door onto the catwalk above the cargo hold, eyes wild.  Seeing Zoe with River, he sagged against the railing in utter relief.

"I'm so sorry, I thought I locked it.  I did lock it!" he protested, forcing himself to keep his voice low as he glared at his sister.

River looked up and scowled, stomping her foot on the deck.  "He's always worried!" She protested, then whirled and ran off back into the ship.  Zoe let out a sharp breath and raised an eyebrow at Simon.  

"Tried handcuffs?" She asked, only half kidding.  

"Yes," he growled through gritted teeth before following River.

Zoe turned to find the last of the evacuees disappearing off towards the camp and the Alliance soldier climbing back into his scooter.

"Well nice meeting you too," she said under her breath as he roared away without a backward glance.  

"Zoe hun."  It was Wash's disembodied voice on the ship's com.  

"Yes dear?"

"Alliance want us out the way so's they can offload a few more of these hapless souls.  We got Mal back yet?"

"Nope.  I'll wave him."  Zoe pressed the control on her palm com.  "Mal?  You there?"

"Yup," Mal took a few steps away from the crowd as he held up his com unit. "You been told to move Serenity?"

"Right," Zoe answered.  "You stayin' for a bit?"

"Yeah, want to keep an eye on how things is progressin'."  

Mal paused, hearing a stray phrase that caught his attention.  Two people were in heated conversation a few yards away, not far from the Alliance Command tent.  One was an elderly Chinese gentleman, well dressed, retired military by his carriage. It was his voice Mal had heard demand, "By then it will be two damned late!  You must consider an attempt to evacuate the wounded as soon as possible."  He was arguing with a soldier, an officer by the uniform, who was looking very uncomfortable.  Slightly to one side stood a man Mal immediately labeled as bodyguard, slim, dark, taking in everything that moved.  

"Sir?"  Zoe's voice cut across his thoughts.

"Uh, what was that?"

"I said 'Keep us informed.'"

" 'Course I will, soon as I know anythin' worth tellin'.  You tell Kaylee to get some sleep now, out."

He tucked his com unit away, watching the argument out of the corner of his eye.  

"I'm sorry sir, but we've not got the resources to attempt any kind of rescue operation at this time.  As far as we can ascertain there is no substantial danger to the station-" the Alliance soldier protested. 

"Your General's assessment of the situation is the 'substantial danger'," snapped the older man. "By the time your reinforcements arrive it'll make no difference if there were twenty ships attacking or a hundred, the damage will be done.  You've got to give the Reavers a show of strength, it's the only thing they understand!"  

"Priority has been given to protecting the civilian settlements, sir."  The officer replied, obviously wanting to apologize but not daring to.  

The elderly man narrowed his eyes and regarded him coldly.  "You know what happens to a man that gets left behind if the Reavers find him?  I'm talking about evacuating the wounded, getting them off that station to safety.  It wouldn't take more than one or two vessels large enough to hold a few dozen men, a field surgeon and enough support to secure a landing area."

"Sir, there is nothing to indicate that our troupes are not able to protect and secure their positions at this time," the officer replied, determined to get his point across.  "The command center is holding.  As far as we know, damage to the station is minimal.  Most of the fighting seems to be concentrated around the core.  The assessments indicate that our troupes are in no immediate danger.  The General believes that there is no need to risk any more of our men at this time."

"You're risking the lives of every man, woman and child in this sector, sergeant!  What do you think the Reavers'll think of your Alliance if you leave your soldiers sitting up there, holed up like rabbits?  You've got to deliver a message, and deliver it hard!"

"Those are our orders at this time sir," the Alliance officer replied, swallowing nervously.  "Sir, I'm aware that your family was on Nexus 7-"

"You are aware of nothing!" The elderly gentleman finally lost his temper.  "In seventy-two hours I will have no family!"

He stormed off, his bodyguard quickly following, and Mal watched him go thoughtfully.

-----------------------------------

"It's damned risky," Jayne said, scowling at Mal.  "Goin' into Reaver territory with no more'n a handful of men?"  He shifted uncomfortably.  "How much did you say he was offerin' again?"

"Man's a Governor, owns an asteroid mining company amongst other things.  He's good for it," Mal said, arms folded.  "We pull this off we'd be able to pay off our debts and be a good ways along the road towards havin' whatever it is we've always dreamed of havin'."  He met Zoe and Wash's eyes, then glanced at Jayne.  "No need for that freighter contract."

"It's the bit about someone shootin' at us that has me worried," Wash said, frowning at Zoe.  "No, actually it's the bit about someone shootin' at us and then eating us for dinner.  Hopefully in that order.  You're not seriously considerin' this are you, Cap'n?"

"Not to mention we'd be letting Alliance soldiers onto Serenity," Simon butted in from his seat at the back of the room.  Kaylee, who was sitting next to him, put a restraining hand on his arm and glanced nervously at Mal.  

"Only if we actually manage to get them off the station," Mal replied, "Xuan's men are all on his payroll.  Some are ex-marines, but they got no interest in us beyond this job.  I aim to keep it that way."

"Oh, great, mercenaries _and_ Alliance soldiers," Wash muttered, "coz one of them ain't enough."

Mal's eyes narrowed and Zoe raised a warning eyebrow at her husband.  Mal turned his attention back to the doctor.  "There's money in this for you too, Simon.  We need a doctor. I told Xuan I knew someone who fit the bill.  You up for it?"

Simon's head came up and he looked at Mal as though the man had suggested something obscene.  "What?  You want me to work with them?"

"Well you'd kinda have to, bein' as you're the doctor," Mal said with what he felt was admirable patience.

"No.  No, I won't risk River like that."

River glanced up at her brother from her seat at his feet, then when she saw he wasn't speaking to her went back to drawing on the floor.

"You won't be riskin' River," Mal reassured him.  "It'd be like I said, we put her back in stasis.  Put the coffin in one of Serenity's little hidey-holes.  No-one'd be none the wiser."

"There's risks attached to stasis too, you know," Simon held up a hand, "physiological side effects, not to mention the trauma of putting her back in that coffin.  The last time she said she dreamed the whole time she was under, and you know what her dreams are like.  I won't do it."

"He's right you know," Shepherd Book cut in.  "Stasis can result in long-term damage to the hypothalamus.  Inability to regulate body temperature, control thirst, and remove bodily waste amongst other things.  Considering what we know of River's medical history it would not be advisable to subject her to it again."

There was a loud silence as everyone stared at the Shepherd. Simon asked almost wonderingly, "How'd you know that?"

Shepherd Book glanced around at the ring of expectant faces and looked slightly alarmed.  "I have some…understanding of the technology," he said cautiously.  When it was obvious he wasn't going to elaborate, Mal blinked a couple of times and said,

"Alright, considerin' we got two medical opinions as say no, perhaps we can think of somethin' else.  You know, someday you an' me going to have a talk Shepherd."

"Perhaps," Book said, folding his hands together in his lap.

"Sir, what if we can't find his family?  How much are we expected to risk trying?"  Zoe asked.

"This is a strictly no recovery no fee proposition," Mal said.  "He can get us fuel and supplies to make the trip, but we don't get his grandchildren back we don't get paid.  Man says he's got ways to get the intel we'll need to narrow down our search, structure of the station, access points, where the fighting's been concentrated, that kinda thing.  He knows where his family were supposed to be.  Seems that there was a pre-launch party goin' on for that new colony ship of theirs, the _Serendipity_.  All the brass were there, including his daughter-in-law, grandson and granddaughter.  That kinda party, I'll be bettin' that's where we'll find Inara." 

"Sounds logical," Jayne commented.  "She always knew where the money was."

Mal shot him a look and ignored the comment.  "Xuan's daughter-in-law made it to one of the ships, she's on her way here now.  She lost her daughter in the evacuation and the child has not turned up on any of the other ships that made it off Nexus 7.  Last she saw her was at the party, so that's where we look for her.  Our other objective is to get to the command center.  That's where Xuan reckons his grandson would be.  He thinks there is a way to reach the command center without going through the Reavers, but if it's too dangerous we don't make the attempt.  Can't spend the money if we're dead."

"Too right," Wash muttered.

Mal turned to Simon.  "He knows his grandson's been injured and that they don't have much beyond the basics in terms of medical care.  The Reavers are between them and the medical facilities.  That's why they're lookin' for a doctor to go along.  Xuan says he can get a field-trained medic, but a man of your caliber is hard to find in these parts."

Simon met his stare, frowning.  "It's too risky.  I don't see how we can take on Alliance soldiers and keep River out of sight."

"Out of sight is out of mind," River commented from the floor.  "Out of mind is out of sight."  The chalk spirals grew beneath her quick fingers.

"First thing we gotta do is decide if we want to try this thing," Mal said, looking around the room.  "I'm for it.  Aside from the money it eats my gut to think of anyone I know in Reaver hands.  Don't particularly like havin' it on my conscience."

"Well I'm in, such as it matters," Kaylee said from the back of the room, her face set.  "It won't be me goin' in there, so the decision's got to be up to you.  Inara's been a good friend.  If we don't try-" she broke off and took a steadying breath.  "I gotta at least know we tried."  

Simon put his hand on hers. 

"It matters, Kaylee," Mal said.  "Everyone on this ship got a say in when and where we risk our lives. Preacher?"

The Shepherd frowned thoughtfully.  "All we know of Reavers tells us there isn't much hope of finding anyone alive.  Seems foolish to be risking our lives when there is so little likelihood of success,"  he said quietly.  Kaylee's face crumpled and she looked away.  "But I agree with Kaylee," Book continued.  "We have to try.  It is the mark of the faithful to have hope when all others have lost theirs.  If there's a way we can get on that station without getting ourselves killed in the process, I'm for it."

Kaylee smiled at him.

"Alright, that's three for, one against," Mal said, sparing Simon a brief look. "Jayne?"

"Can't say as I don't think we'd be damn fools to go in there when the Alliance ain't even gonna send one of it's warships," the big man replied, "but that's a lot of money.  The man say he'd pay us if'n we bring back bodies?"

"Just gotta bring 'em back," Mal confirmed.

Jayne screwed up his face in thought.  "More guns?"  He asked.

"Weapons, ammunition, medical supplies, fuel, food, all provided for."

"Alright, I'm in."

"Zoe, Wash?"

"I'm in sir," Zoe replied immediately.  Wash looked at her for a long moment.  

"Alright," he said, "me too.  I think it's damned stupid and near-on suicidal, but I'll fly this boat wherever you want her to go."  He looked up at Mal.  "Just tell me that if it's lookin' suicidal you ain't gonna try be some kinda big damned hero."

"Trust me, Wash, I ain't lived this long by practisin' heroics," Mal replied. Wash made a disgusted sound and shook his head.

"Simon?"  Mal asked.  When the doctor looked at him, frowning, Mal said quietly, "You don't have to come.  We can find a place for you and River here somewhere, hole you up for a while.  Course, we don't come back you're on your own."

Kaylee's hand tightened on Simon's, and he looked at her, then glanced down to River.

"I can't put her back in that coffin," he said softly.

"There's plenty of places to hide a body on this boat," Mal answered.  "We could fix one of them up for a couple of day's stay.  Could you maybe sedate her?"

Simon shrugged awkwardly, "I never know how much to give her.  Sometimes she's out for hours, other times she's awake and running around well before she should be."

"How much do you think you can explain to her about how important it is to stay hidden?"  Zoe asked.

River looked up at Zoe. "I told you, no-one's looking.  They only see what's on their minds, and I'll be out of mine," she said, then glanced at Simon with an impatient frown. "We're going to be too late if we stay much longer."

Simon looked at River with his usual expression, somewhere between anguish and amazement.  

"It's a thing to think about, money like we're being offered," Mal added.  "That kinda money can go a long ways towards buying you a new life."

It was what had been going through Simon's mind, a way out of this cycle of lurching from one disaster to another, barely escaping with their lives time and time again.  Money like this could buy River a chance to heal, a home for them both.  He wrestled with the knowledge that he'd be taking an incredible risk – two, maybe three days with the constant danger of being discovered.  But they lived with that risk every day as it was, every time they docked anywhere the Alliance had an outpost.  He felt Kaylee's finger's tighten around his and took a breath.

"Okay, I'll do it.  But it's going to take some preparation.  I'm going to need help."

"I'll help," Kaylee said instantly.  "Me an' River get along, don't we?"  She smiled at River, who ignored her.  "I'll help you look after her."

"Alright, that's it then.  I'll tell Xuan."  Mal turned on one heal and was out the door.

"I think maybe we got a few details to be workin' out first!" Wash said to his retreating back, then looked around as people started getting up and heading for the exits.  "Like how we're going to be sneakin' up on a station surrounded by Reavers in the middle of the black.  Anyone?"  

Zoe stood, gave him a gentle smile, pushed her chair under the table and followed Mal.

River stared thoughtfully at the floor.

"What'cha drawin', honey?"  Kaylee asked, leaning over for a look.

"It's a mandala," Shepherd Book said, picking up plates and cups from the table.  Jayne got up, handed the Shepherd his mug and headed for the door. 

"A what?" Kaylee turned her head to one side to see if it made more sense the other way.

"I need some red," River said in a determined voice as Jayne passed by.  The big man flinched, stared at her in horror, then ducked out of the door in a hurry. 

"River?"  Simon put his hands on her shoulders.  "Time to go, we've got to go get ready."

"Are we off to see the wizard?" River asked distractedly.

Simon and Kaylee shared a mystified look.  "Uh, no, we're going to rescue Inara.  Come on."  

Still staring over her shoulder at the mandala, River got up and allowed her brother to lead her away.  When they had gone, Shepherd Book stood looking at it for some time.  Then he took out a mop and carefully wiped away every last detail.


	4. Chapter 4 Talks with Weapons

**Author's note:**  This chapter has a title because one suggested itself.  Spoiler alert for those who may not have seen the unaired episodes in the US.

**Things Fall Apart**

**Chapter 4 – Talks with Weapons**

River was good.  She let her brother put her into the hidey-hole, a space just large enough for her to lie down comfortably.  He put a mattress and a couple of blankets inside, and a sidelight that gave off a glow bright enough to read by.  Kaylee gave her a little portable player and headphones, although River wasn't that impressed by her taste in music.  There was a bottle of water and some food cubes, enough for a couple of days.  Kaylee told her she'd try and smuggle her something a little more tasty after dinner.  There was a bucket with a lid on it for her toilet, although using it was going to require a lot of flexibility on her part in such confined quarters.  Simon was endlessly apologetic about that and said that if there was any chance he'd try to get her to the toilet.  River would have told him that she'd endured far worse – had been made to endure far worse – for people who did not love her, but she knew that would just upset him so she didn't.

All of these preparations were only in case she woke up before it was safe to do so.  When Simon gave her the pills she took the first one and swallowed it dutifully. The second she held under her tongue.  She'd asked what it was and he'd told her, not thinking it would matter.  Twelve hours was enough to sleep, to have her brother check on her a few times and be sure that she was safe.  Truth be told she'd rather sleep in this hole than be awake the whole time.  The journey to the station took eighteen hours, she'd heard the Captain saying that.  Six hours would give her enough time to be over the effects.  She'd need a clear head by the time they reached Nexus 7.

River lay in the darkness, listening to the sounds of the ship around her.  The engine like a heartbeat, the passage of air like breathing, the distant voices she could still identify even if she couldn't hear the words.  All these sounds comforted her, held her to the here and now when thought and time swirled around her in kaleidoscopes of possibility and meaning.  It was so hard to find her place, to keep it when the _when_ and the _where_ seemed so incidental.  She knew that she got lost.  Sometimes she did it deliberately, casting herself into the current and sinking beneath the surface, leaving behind the frail and limited body.  But mostly the currents took her without her consent and she had little control over where they went.  It was hard to come back those times, and she lived with a constant fear that one day she wouldn't.

She had little control, but she did have some.  Part of that control was being able to piece together what it was she saw, stringing moments like beads.  Sometimes the string broke and the moments scattered, shattering.  But not this time.  This time she held onto the thread with everything she had, held onto her place in the when of it, letting the tide of time carry her through events as she knew it would.  There was a moment ahead where the possibilities flickered and danced, caught in a whirlpool of choices not yet made, chances not yet taken.  River allowed sleep to swallow her, eyes fixed on that moment.

"I have promises to keep, and miles to go, miles to go…."  

                                   …………………………………………………..

_12 hours later_

Mal sat in the Captain's chair on the bridge, staring out into the black.  Wash sat beside him, nervously watching the monitors, eyes flickering between screens.  

"We got six hours before we reach the place, _dui_?" Mal said irritably.  "There ain't no chance they'd be seein' us yet."

"Better safe than on the menu is what I say," Wash replied, wiping sweat out of his eyes.  "There's a lot of noise out there but not much chatter.  Been tryin' to make some sense of it but I don't think there's no sense to be made."

He flicked a switch and the wine and hiss of static flooded the bridge.  Zoe came through the door and stopped at the noise.

"What we listenin' to?" she asked.

"Nexus 7's frequency, if the information Xuan gave us is correct," Wash replied.  He twisted a dial and there was a hitch, then more static. "That's their ship frequency.  Nobody's talkin'."

Zoe and Mal exchanged glances.  "Our guests alright down there?"  Mal asked her.

"Right as rain," Zoe replied. "Been askin' how much longer."

"Five hours thirty five minutes till we have the station on screen," Wash told her. "Three hours to power down."

Zoe nodded and turned to leave.  "Hold on, I'll go down," Mal said, getting up out of the chair.  "Figure I'd better show my face before they think you're the Captain."

She smiled a little, "It's a mite pro-Alliance down there," she warned.

"It's not U-Day just yet, think I can manage to stay out of trouble," Mal quipped as he went past.

He found the man who'd been introduced to him as Xuan's head of security in the dining room.  Jacques Duvenage was unremarkable, of average height, average build, with dark hair and eyes.  He had the kind of face that wouldn't have looked out of place on most of the worlds in the known universe.  He also had the reserved, watchful manner of a trained observer.  Mal had seen the respect he commanded among his men.  He moved with a controlled grace that had Mal suspecting he was not a man who needed weapons, although he obviously knew how to use them.  Mal felt a brief stab of regret that he couldn't have River meet the man, it would've been interesting to see what she made of him.  What Duvenage would have made of her Mal would have paid a high price to know.

Duvenage was drinking tea with the Shepherd.  They weren't talking.  When Mal came in he thought he saw a flicker of relief cross the Shepherd's face.

"Tea?" Book offered.

"_Xie xie_, don't mind if I do," Mal said, recognizing when a man needed a reprieve.  He sat down at the head of the table, met Duvenage's assessing look.

"I heard you were wantin' to know how long it would be till we reached the station."

Duvenage nodded.  "I imagine we're just under six hours away by now," he said in his precise English. 

"_Dui_.  We'll be going in silent, power down in around three hours.  There'll be a warning."

"Has your pilot managed to intercept any communications?"

Mal shook his head, "Nothin'.  Silent as the grave out there."

A slight frown creased Duvenage's brow. He stared thoughtfully at the table, considering this news.  "Hmm.  I'm not surprised about the station considering that the Reavers do target the communications array, but I am concerned about the other Alliance vessels."

"So are we," Mal commented, and caught Duvenage's dark glance.  The man had taken in Serenity and her crew in seconds, he knew exactly where Mal's loyalty lay and what line of business they were in.

"There were four warships left following the evacuation," Duvenage said, ignoring the irony.  "The troupe carrier may have only light weaponry, but there were two Viper-class gun ships and a dreadnought stationed at Nexus 7.  It would be most worrying if they have fallen into Reaver hands."

Mal shrugged.  "Alliance seemed pretty certain that their men could hold them off."

Duvenage sipped his drink.  "This attack is not the Reavers' usual _modus operandi_."

"That is true," the Shepherd answered, handing Mal a steaming cup.  "I've never heard of Reavers attacking together like this before."

"They don't much like co-operatin'," Mal agreed.  "But to tell the truth there ain't usually enough survivors left to tell us how many set about killin' them.  As you say, they knock out communications first.  All we find is bodies days later."

"It is hard to be going up against an enemy we know so little about," Duvenage said, and smiled at the Shepherd.  "What one hears has one almost believing these men to be devils."

Mal's mouth twisted.  "Atrocities ain't confined to the Devil, an' civilized men can commit the worst in the name of the Lord."

Book's face hardened, "If a man calls upon the Lord to justify his actions then he must be prepared to answer to the Lord."

"Makes you wonder exactly what it is that's sittin' up there now, don't it?" Mal threw back at him, knowing that Duvenage was watching this little exchange with interest and annoyed about it.  

"So," he said, facing the man, "You ever had any dealings with Reavers?"

"Me?  No," Duvenage shook his head.  "Although I've heard the same stories.  They remind me of the histories we used to read of Earth-that-was, the days of the great explorers.  They were inevitably running up against some undiscovered tribe out on the edges of the known world.  The missionaries and settlers of the old empires were convinced of their cultural superiority, their rightness with God.  Their arrogance and ignorance often resulted in tragedy, both for themselves and the savages they discovered."

Shepherd Book looked at the other man sharply. "_Nah mei guan shi_. There were plenty of civilized men who took it upon themselves to pray upon their brothers and sisters.  The frontiers were well acquainted with those seeking their fortune away from the restrictions of law and society.  Many colonial powers broadened those frontiers using such men to do the dirty work for them.  Man's greed has more to answer for than his religion, and arrogance and ignorance are often tempered by faith."  

Duvenage put his cup down very precisely, lips thinning.  He and the Shepherd stared at each other.

"Seems to me most of us is only a few square meals away from savages," Mal glanced between the two men, wondering at the tension in the air. "Seen this 'verse do strange things to people and that's one of the strangest, how a man can go from bein' a gentleman to guttin' someone without a moment's thought. Makes you wonder what the point is of all that civilizin' when we can shuck it off so easily."

"Some of us, perhaps," Book said, finally breaking his stare with Duvenage. "But not all.  I like to believe that the converse is also true.  If there is a savage in each of us, then there is also that which makes us human."

"That would depend on what it is that you believe makes us human," Duvenage replied, with a twitch of the lips that might have been a smile.  Book raised his eyebrows.

"Ah, a philosopher," he said with apparent pleasure, although his eyes remained wary. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"Perhaps later," Duvenage said, rising to his feet.  "Now I must ensure that all is well with my men.  Please excuse me."

Mal studied the Shepherd, and when he was sure that Duvenage had put enough distance between them he asked, "What was that?"

"What was what?" Book's expression was distracted.

"Zoe told me to stay out of trouble.  She should'a been talkin' to you."

The preacher looked a little sheepish, but the worried frown remained.  "_Duibuqi,_ I didn't mean to give you cause for concern.  I shall be mindful of my words from now on."

"Don't be concerned," Mal reassured him.  "It's just that I never thought to see you argue against the Alliance."

"Was that what I was doing?"  Book looked surprised.  "I thought we were discussing history."

Mal grinned at the Shepherd's guileless expression.  "They do say if we aren't mindful of history we're doomed to repeat it.  What do you think of the man?"  He asked by way of changing the subject.  

Book stared at him for a long moment, then frowned and glanced at the door.

"I think he is very dangerous, Captain."

"Good," Mal said, getting to his feet.  "We're going to need him where we're going."

                                       ---------------------------------------------

Four hours later 

River carefully tapped the grill, holding it with the tips of her fingers to prevent it from clattering to the deck, and peered out.  The gangway was dim and quiet, lit only by emergency lighting.  Everyone was in the dining room or on the bridge, waiting out the silent time as they approached the station.  She crept out and fitted the grill back into position.  It was unlikely her brother would come searching for her now, he'd checked her only a few minutes ago and she'd timed his visits.  She had two hours before the next one, and by then she'd be out of reach.

Her bare feet silent on the decking, River padded down the corridor and paused at the end, listening.  The mess was to her left, the gangway above the cargo hold and the entry to the shuttle to her right.  She could hear voices murmuring from the mess through the door, closed against the cold as the heating had been turned down to reduce Serenity's energy signature.  The cargo hold below her was a dark pit.  She stared at it with wide eyes, watching shadows shifting.  Then with a sharp indrawn breath her head jerked to the left.

There was a knife in the corridor.  It wasn't one of Jayne's, she knew all of them by name.  He would have liked it though.  It was beautiful in the way deadly things could be.  

(Who are you?) it asked.

She frowned at the question.  Surely knives weren't supposed to talk?  But then, she probably wasn't supposed to hear them.  "A weapon, like you," she told it.

(Where have you been?)

"Floating in the river, dreaming of red.  There were flowers, poppies and cherry blossom."

The knife regarded her, tasting of metal.  (What do you see?) it asked eventually.

"I can see the edges.  You have been forged, like me," she took a cautious step nearer, fascinated. "But you have a different purpose."

It sharpened and she froze, reminded of a need for wariness. 

(What do you know of my purpose?) it asked coldly.

River cocked her head.  "To cut out, to cut through, to cut into the heart of the thing.  Why do you ask me what you already know?"

The knife glistened, reflective.  (What is your purpose?)

She blinked and frowned.  "My purpose?"  She felt a sudden panic.  "They didn't tell me."

(You said you were a weapon.  Like me.)

"A weapon," she repeated, confused.   "Can you not see?  I thought the last ones would have made it clear but they didn't finish the job."

(If you do not know your purpose, how will you accomplish it?)

She giggled and shook her head. "Knife talk," she said, "all cutting edges and questions.  If you don't know where you are going, any road will take you there."

(Where are you going?) 

River sighed inwardly.  Knives were so single-minded.  "To see the Fool and keep my promises."

(What promises?  Who is the fool?)

"The Fool and the Hanged Man wait for me at the crossroads," River explained with the patience of a parent to a child.  "The Good Book says there are only two roads, the road to Heaven and the road to Hell.  But there is another, older story.  A third way, one the faithful don't know.  The road to middle air."  Abruptly her face went blank and her eyes wide. "Rhymes and riddles, tricks and lies, so many choices, so many lives…."  And then her gaze sharpened again.  She examined the knife, its elegance and simplicity of purpose, feeling something very like envy.  "A blade has one path.  Choose your master well."

Then there was no more time for talk.  Turning swiftly, disregarding the knife at her back – it had another purpose this day - she ran down the catwalk to the shuttle. Opening the hatch, she ducked inside into darkness so complete her vision starred.  Putting her mind inside a picture, she shut her eyes and felt her way towards the back.  There was a panel here…running her fingers over the wall she found the screws, then slipped the knife out of its sheath and fitted its tip into the grooves.

"Jayne'll kill me if he sees me putting you to this use," she muttered to herself as she turned the blade, loosening the screws, careful to keep them in their holes.  Then she squeezed herself into the space and lifted the panel back, fitting the screws and twisting them until they would just hold it in place.  Curled with her back to the wall, River wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked back and forth.  Her teeth were chattering as much from excitement as from the cold.

"Soon," she said, almost as though reassuring someone, "Soon."

                             ………………………………………………….

Two hours later 

Wash, Mal, Zoe, Jayne, Book, Duvenage and his second in command, a man called Lessing, were crowded onto the bridge.  Everyone was dressed for the cold and the lighting was minimal, coming mostly from the console and the screens they were huddled around.  Wash, wrapped in a blanket, was counting out loud.

"…four, five, six…seven and eight.  I wasn't wrong."  He frowned and glanced out of the window towards the star-bright glow that was Nexus 7, although it was still too far away for anything to be seen with the naked eye.  "Eight?  I thought they said there were twenty ships.  What happened, someone get hungry?"

"There's a lotta wreckage," Jayne commented, "Mebbe them Alliance flyboys did what they's supposed to."  He looked pretty doubtful about that.

Mall shook his head, "Nah.  Most of the wreckage looks like it comes from the Serendipity.  They sure made sure she's not goin' anywhere."

There was a moment of silence while everybody stared glumly at the screen, taking in the dismembered corpse of the Alliance's colony ship suspended in the network of girders at the hub of the wheel that was Nexus 7.  Large sections of Serendipity's outer hull had been stripped away and debris continued to drift outwards in an ever-widening radius.  The bigger pieces were going to pose a considerable hazard to anyone trying to approach.  The ships that remained had retreated, attempting to keep out of the worst of it.  That mostly meant that they had attached themselves to the outside of the wheel, leeward of the core.  This was good news for the rescuers because it made it easier for them to approach undetected, screened as they were by the bulk of the station. 

"So where'd the _huh choo-shang tza-jiao duh tzang-huo_ go then?" Jayne asked.

"Got what they came here for an' left,"  Mal suggested.  "Question is, why are the rest of them still here?"

"Ain't got what they came for?" Jayne hazarded.  

"It looks as though most of the station's still got it's own power. There's just this section here," Wash said, pointing to a patch of darkness in the glittering rows of lights that ran around the circumference of the station wheel.  "Some kind of explosion?"

"Something hit it," Duvenage corrected him.  "A ship, gathering from all the wreckage in the area."

"One of theirs or one of ours?"  Book asked.

"Both," Duvenage's second, Lessing, replied, his face grim.  "Looks like one of the Viper gun ships."  He pointed to a drifting hulk that looked less like a ship than a flattened tin can.  "The rest of the wreckage belongs to an Orca strike craft.  There weren't any of those stationed at Nexus 7, it was probably the attacker's."

Wash suddenly squinted his eyes and leaned closer to the screen. "Hey, they've got a Doodlebug!"

"_Shenme_?" Jayne asked.

"A Doodlebug!  I ain't seen one of 'em outside a museum!  I didn't think there were any still flyin'.  Kaylee's gonna love this," Wash grinned.

"There's enough people on this bridge, dear." Zoe remarked from the corner console, where she'd spread out a schematic of the station and was studying it.   "Those ships hit the station just about where the grand ballroom was," she said, tracing the drawings with one finger and glancing at the view screen.  "The emergency airlock for Section A is right there," she gestured to the middle of the patch of dark on Nexus 7's hull, frowning.  "_Bu hao._ We're going to have to try another point of entry."

"No sign of the dreadnought or the other Viper, sir," Lessing said to Duvenage.  "I'd hazard they had to retreat or risk being destroyed."

"We hope," Mal muttered.  Duvenage shot him an icy look, which Mal met.  "Other option is the Reavers have 'em.  Frankly I'd prefer them in Alliance hands."  He surprised himself by actually meaning it.

"What kind of weapons are we gonna be facin'?" Jayne asked.

"They a couple of converted heavy haulers, probably miners originally," Wash said, studying the console.  "Don't know what's on them but it can't be big guns.  Structure won't take it.  You don't go nowhere fast in one of them and Kaylee'll tell you how much fuel they take.  Still, there's probably thousands between here and the Core and no-one'd look twice at another one, so you wouldn't have to-"

"Wash." Mal cut in.

"_Shenme_?  Oh, sorry. There's two more Orcas placed on either side of the hub," Wash grimaced, "They got torpedoes and cannon, but it's their scanners we really gotta worry about.  We're just outa range where we are now but it's going to be tricky getting the shuttles in close.  The other ships mostly look like transport.  'Course,there could be a dozen gun ships parked on the other side of that gas giant and we'd be none the wiser." 

"You always gotta say it, don'cha?"  Jayne growled.  "_Tamade baichi_.  Now you probably gone an' jinxed the whole thing!"

Wash grinned, "The gods favor a fool and we gotta be idiots to be where we are right now.  You got nuthin' ta worry about."

"_Wangba dan_!  Will you shut up?  You're jus' makin' it worse!"

"How easy is it going to be to get the shuttles in close enough?"  Duvenage asked Mal, ignoring Jayne and Wash.

"Not easy," Mal said, folding his arms, "But all the debris is going to make it a little less impossible.  Gotta be playin' havoc with their sensors.  Wash thinks they'd like as switch 'em so that nuthin' too small will set them off.  It's the big stuff they'll be worried about, approaching ships and that.  Shuttles should be small enough to get by without bein' noticed.  So long as nobody takes a look out of the window an' starts wonderin' howcome some bits are drifting towards the station instead of away."

Duvenage studied him, then said quietly, "That's all guesswork, isn't it Captain?  There's no way of knowing until we're close enough to be caught."

"An' that's just getting to the station," Zoe replied. "No tellin' what we're going to find once we get through the airlocks.  Could be our troubles are only startin'."

The security chief looked from Zoe to Mal, then a slight smile touched his lips.  "You don't strike me as a fool or a martyr, Captain Reynolds.  You have survived things that few others can even begin to imagine, fighting the very people you have come here to save.  I know you and your crew have no love for the Alliance, and you are not doing this only for the money."

It was a statement, not a question.  Mal hadn't told Xuan the full reason why they were willing to help with the rescue attempt, not wanting to give him any unnecessary leverage when it came to agreeing the price.  Duvenage was a good enough judge of character to know that money wouldn't be the only reason Mal would be willing to risk his ship and his crew, and he didn't want to be walking into a fight with a man who's motivations he neither knew nor understood guarding his back.  Mal smiled a little himself, thinking that it would be interesting in itself to see whether Duvenage accepted the real motivation.  Could reveal a lot about what the man held important.  

"Rest assured I ain't tryin' to get myself or my crew killed.  Kinda got into the habit of survivin', don't plan to be changin' that any time soon.  There's someone on that station we'll be lookin' for.  A friend.  Don't know about you but I ain't got enough of those left to be feedin' 'em to Reavers."

Duvenage ignored Mal's flippancy, his expression thoughtful. "Must be a good friend," he said.

"She was.  Is."  Mal answered, and tried not to flinch at his inadvertent slip.  "Got reason to believe she was at that party they was holdin', so we'll be lookin' for her an' the granddaughter there." 

"And if you don't find her?"  Duvenage asked.

Any remnant of humor left Mal's face.  "Don't make a diff'rence.  We make the attempt, we get out alive.  Ain't gonna risk my people more'n I have to." 

The security chief didn't comment.  When the silence stretched, Zoe shifted slightly and looked up at Mal,

"Time we did this thing Cap'n.  Ain't getting' any younger."

They split into their teams, Duvenage, Zoe and Jayne in one shuttle,  Mal, Book, and Lessing in the other.  Three of Duvenage's men traveled with each shuttle and two more remained behind with Simon, Kaylee and Wash.  The shuttles were crowded.  It had been agreed that Mal's shuttle would assist evacuating the wounded if they were unable to fit them all in the one.  Serenity would never be able to get close enough.  It was a big risk, leaving Mal's team temporarily without an escape.  It was also a risk in that there would be more trips between Serenity and the Station, greatly increasing the likelihood that they would be spotted.  But it was also true that Duvenage knew exactly where to go to find his man.  Mal and his team were working on hearsay and best guess and would have to conduct a search.  That was likely to take time, which could be better spent saving lives.

Mal checked his watch against the shuttle's clock and set the timer.  Two hours.  If by then they hadn't found anything, they were out of there.  

"We ready?" He asked on the shuttle's com.

"They're set, Cap'n," Wash confirmed. 

"Alright, mark thirty and counting.  You be here when we get back, you hear me?"

"You be back, sir,"  Wash replied.

Mal switched off the com.  There would be no talking to Serenity until this was over,  too much chance of being overheard.  He thought of the other times he'd seen Reaver handiwork and what they might find on that station and couldn't help the shudder that inched its way down his spine.  Forced himself to think of what might have happened to Inara, might still be happening.  For all his resolve he could not think of her as dead, although he knew somewhere down deep in his gut that she would have chosen to die by her own hand rather than die like that.  

What really frightened him was that he could not see beyond this moment.  It was as though everything that came afterwards depended on it.  There had been another time – he had no idea how long it had lasted – during and after Serenity Valley when he'd lived with no concept of tomorrow.  Just getting through each hour, each day had been hard enough.  He closed his eyes and debated praying, feeling an ache within him that desperately wanted that comfort.  Then he opened them and looked out at the black, coldly reminding himself that there was nothing out there.  He laughed.

The Shepherd looked up from his prayer. "_Shenme shi_?"

Mal glanced at him.  "I was just thinkin'.  Strange, innit, how hope can kill you an' keep you alive at the same time?  Must be one of them little cosmic jokes."

The Shepherd didn't smile.  "It is one of the pillars of my religion.  I suppose it shouldn't be surprising that it's no easier to understand than faith.  Both can be a heavy burden, and then again they can be the very thing that helps you to carry that burden."

Mal sighed, half exasperated and half resigned to the fact that the Shepherd would pull a lesson out of the least likely of situations. "Well, between your faith and my hope perhaps we got some chance at livin' through this.  Wonder who's givin' out the charity?" 

The shuttles detached from Serenity and gave a single burst from their engines, heading towards the station.  Simon let out a slow breath as he watched them leave.  He could not help but feel relieved to have most of the armed men off the ship for a time.  Perhaps now he'd be able to get some sleep without worrying about imminent discovery.  No doubt he'd need it later, especially if they managed to pull off this idiotic rescue attempt.  He could almost envy River her sleep through the ordeal.  He tucked his hands under his armpits to warm his fingers, grimacing at the increasing chill.  On that thought he decided to go and find his sister another blanket.  It was going to be getting a lot colder before very long.

**End of Chapter 4** Glossary 

Dui:  correct

Nah mei guan shi:  That has nothing to do with it.

Shenme:  What?  Shenme shi?  What is it?

Tamade baichi:  fucking idiot

Bu hao:  Not good.

huh choo-shang tza-jiao duh tzang-huo:  animal fucking bastards

Wangba dan:  Bastard


	5. Chapter 5

**Things Fall Apart – Chapter 5**

Jayne dropped down onto the upper deck of the airlock, disdaining the set of stairs that had automatically extended when the emergency hatch was activated.  He made a quick 360 degree sweep through Vera's sights.  The airlock was larger than Serenity's cargo bay and a lot emptier.  Letting out a slow breath, Jayne grimaced suspiciously and sniffed at the air.  It smelled faintly of burnt things.  He glanced over his shoulder and gave a quick 'OK' signal, then took a quick step sideways and watched the doors.

Each of Nexus 7's five sections was connected to its neighbors by an airlock, which had a door on either side.  Sometimes these doors were left open to make it easier for the passengers or crew to move around.  The doors to Sections C, with its crew quarters and cargo bays, and Section D, which held Nexus 7s' Command Center, were both closed.  The station had two decks, the outer rim of the wheel forming the floor of the lower deck and an upper deck with its ceiling looking towards the hub.  Each deck had an emergency access hatch on one wall of the airlock.  Direction on the station was always taken from the direction of spin, or clockwise.  

Duvenage dropped lightly onto the deck, holding a lethal-looking laser-targeted handgun that had Jayne salivating.  He glanced about, then moved quickly over to the access door to Section D and examined the panel.  Zoe came down the stairs behind him, followed by the army-trained medic Xuan had sent, a man called Tran.  Duvenage's other two men would remain in the shuttle, one at the emergency hatch and one at the controls.  

When all who were coming were on the deck, Zoe and Jayne crossed to Duvenage.  He examined a tiny palm com and glanced up at Zoe.

"Access panels seem to be working.  The codes should be valid.  If we open this door and we're staring at Reavers, we close it and we leave.  Understood?"

She looked at him calmly,  "If we can't make it to the Command Center then we help the Captain.  Ain't no way I'm leavin' him if the Reavers know we're here."

He studied her expression, then nodded and started to punch in the access codes from the palm com.  A light above the door flashed, and they all looked at it and then at each other.  If there were any Reavers on the other side of the door, they knew someone was coming now.  Zoe and Jayne backed off, weapons drawn.  With a high-pitched tone the door swung open.  

Nothing happened.  Zoe risked a quick glance around the door frame, and there was no hail of gunfire to great her.  They waited a couple of seconds, then Jayne went through and held position to the right of the door, covering the left-hand side of the corridor.  It was as deserted as the airlock had been.  Zoe, Duvenage and Tran followed and they began edging their way down the corridor along the walls.  

They passed through the reception area, offices, a small rec room.  Everything was brightly lit and deserted, and there was no sound except for the faint hum of machinery.  Each door they came to was open, the room empty.  Here and there were overturned chairs, scattered papers, broken glass. The further down the corridor they moved – the closer to the Command Center – the more evidence there was of fighting.  There were scorch marks, bullet holes and spent casings, blood spatters on the walls, and once or twice sticky pools and marks that showed a body had lain there for a while.  But no bodies.  Jayne suppressed a shudder and settled Vera against his shoulder.  The silence was working on his nerves.  

Duvenage, who was leading, suddenly stopped dead.  Jayne's finger tightened on the trigger.  Zoe inched up behind Duvenage and he signaled to look ahead.  It was the door to the Command Center, pitted and scorched but still firmly shut.  

Zoe frowned when she saw it.  "You think there's anyone alive in there?"  She asked in a whisper.

"Very likely," Duvenage replied.  "Door is reinforced, steal bolts through the floor and ceiling, own power and air supply inside.  Reavers tried to blow it but it didn't work.  We're going to have to signal them to tell them we're here."

"How's about we knock on the door?"  Jayne asked by way of being humerous.

"You volunteerin'?"  Zoe asked him, raising an eyebrow.

"Nah," he said hastily.  "I figure they gotta be a mite trigger happy right now."

Duvenage had taken out his palm com again and was looking thoughtfully around at the walls.  "There's an intercom system.  Give me a minute."

Not much later Zoe and Duvenage were at the door listening the tinny voice of one of the soldiers holed up inside the Command Center.

"Haven't heard anything for nearly an hour.  Reavers just up and left," the soldier said, sounding as though he didn't believe it himself.  "We've been trying signal our ships but no-one's responding."

"That's because there's no-one out there," Zoe told him.  "Two went with the evacuees and one of the Viper's was destroyed.  The other Viper, the dreadnought and the troupe carrier ain't nowhere to be seen.  Could be they had to withdraw."

"And the Reaver ships?"  The soldier asked.

"There's eight ships that don't belong to the Alliance parked outside.  How's the door comin'?"

"We're working on it.  The explosion's messed with the bolt mechanism.  Eight ships?  There were twenty of them before.  Where's the rest?"

"They didn't leave a note," Zoe said shortly.  "We've been asked to look for a Lieutenant Xuan.  Is he with you?"

"Yes, the Lieutenant's here," came the reply, and Jayne grinned hugely.  "He's been hurt."

"We've got a medic with us and a doctor back at the ship.  We got limited space and time, priority is for the wounded."

"Understood," came the reply.

There was sharp crack and the door to the Command Center swung open.  A dozen weapons were trained on Zoe and Duvenage.  Both stood very still with their hands held away from their bodies.  There was a long, tense moment as they were examined.  

"You're not Alliance," one of the soldiers observed.

"That we ain't," Zoe agreed.  "There's two others with us."  Cautiously she gestured to Jayne and Tran to step into view.  

"My men and I work for Governor Xuan,"  Duvenage explained, and gestured to Zoe and Jayne.  "These two are from the ship he hired to help with the rescue.  The Governor felt that it was imperative the wounded be evacuated from the station as soon as possible, but the senior staff didn't agree.  Alliance do not know we are here."

The soldier frowned, "Alliance ain't comin'?"

"Oh they're comin'," Zoe replied wryly, "from the Core via Nexus 5.  Should be here in another thirty-six hours."

There were a few angry curses and one of the men asked, "They were gonna leave us up here for three days with those _chùsheng xai-jiao de xiang huo_?"

The soldier who'd been doing all the talking up till now barked a command and the swearing subsided.

"Priority's for the wounded," he said. "I want them off this station.  Don't care who sent you, no man's worth more'n another here.  That gonna be a problem?"

"No problem," Duvenage said quietly.  "We'll take as many of the wounded as we can."

The soldier held Duvenage's eye for a long time, then cautiously lowered his weapon.

"Which one of you's the medic?"

Simon came thundering up the stairs onto the bridge and hurled himself through the door, startling Wash so badly he nearly fell out of his chair.  

"_Tamade_, don't do that!" he yelled, gripping the console, disconcerted by how much his hands were shaking.  Lord, but they were all wound so tight.  "It's a good thing I'm wearing my brown trousers, you bastard."  

"I can't find River!" Simon gasped.

"_Shenme_?"

"I said I can't find River.  I've looked everywhere, she's not on Serenity."

Wash stared at Simon, looking almost as horrified as the doctor.  "Are you sure?"

Simon raised his hands helplessly, "I can't think of anywhere else to look." 

Kaylee appeared at the door and hovered there, wide-eyed.

"Did you find her?"  Simon asked.

Kaylee shook her head.  Simon closed his eyes and swore.

"She has to be on one of the shuttles," he said, and sank down into the Captain's chair as though his legs had given way.

"But there were six people on board, where would she hide?" Kaylee asked, still half hiding behind the door frame.

"I don't know!" Simon snapped.  "It's the only place we haven't looked."

"I'm only tryin' to think logical," Kaylee said gently.  "You'da thought one of them would'a noticed is all."

"Maybe they have," Wash said, rubbing his chin.  "Maybe they have found her.  They can't tell us until they're out of range of the station, it's too dangerous."

Simon looked at him, his expression a pained mixture of hope and fear, "But that'd mean that Xuan's men know."

Wash grimaced, "Lesser of two evils."

"Let's hope," Kaylee said softly. 

Mal stepped over a chunk of what looked like a wall and had to duck quickly to avoid a loose hatch cover hanging from the ceiling.  He swore under his breath.  Even with the night vision goggles Duvenage had lent them, sudden flares from electrical shorts and what was left of the emergency lighting made it difficult to see where they were going.  Section A, the section that had been hit by the Viper gunship, was a mess.  Atmospherics were working, but most of the other electrical systems weren't.  They'd expected some damage – they'd even brought an EVA suit in the spirit of worst-case-scenario – but Mal was beginning to think that he'd bitten off more than he could chew.  

For all it looked simple, Nexus 7 was a rabbit warren of interconnecting passages and rooms as the designers made use of every square inch of available space.  It had taken nearly half an hour to make their way through Section B's lower deck, which held cabins for travelers.  Dozens of them, each of which had to be checked.  There were dozens more on the upper deck.  It made the hair on Mal's neck stand on end just thinking about how many places there were to hide on this tin can, all of which would have to be searched in the next hour and a half.  

They had encountered their first real obstacle when they reached the airlock.  The access panel on the door leading into Section A wouldn't respond.  It had taken Lessing and another of Xuan's employees of questionable background, a man named Ossa, ten minutes to rewire the panel well enough to activate the locking mechanism.  Mal wasn't sure whether to be annoyed that this meant their half-hour search of B's lower deck had been a waste of time, or pleased that there was less likelihood the Reavers would be coming up behind them.

His com buzzed.  He cupped his hand around the mouthpiece.

"Yeah?"

"Cap'n, it's Zoe.  We got twelve wounded men ready to move.  We need that shuttle."

"I'll send it on over."  Mal waved a quick signal to Lessing, who relayed the message to the men waiting on the shuttle.  "Had to rewire the gorammed door to get in, electrics are shot," he told her.  "It's gonna take some time to make a decent search.  Have that shuttle back as fast as you can, I gotta feelin' we're gonna find Reavers before long."

"If you think you're gonna need ta get out of there in a hurry we can wait," Zoe said quickly. "Command Center's pretty much set ta last out Armageddon."

"Nah, probably just my nerves talkin'," Mal replied, sorry he'd said it now.  Good thing Jayne hadn't been there to hear.  "You got our bounty, make this fool's errand worthwhile.  Shuttle's on it's way."

He switched off the com and stared ahead into the gloom.  They had reached the edge of a large open space, which the intermittent lighting revealed as being full of tables and chairs.  They crouched in the relative cover of the corridor, trying to see if any of the shadows out there were moving.  Section A's lower deck consisted of restaurants, kitchens and a couple of cocktail bars.  The ballroom and other function rooms were on the upper deck.  The lifts and stairwells were in the middle of each section, directly below the access spoke coming up from the hub.  Visiting dignitaries and first-class passengers would be brought up from their ships at the hub to be shown the spectacular view from the ballroom's view port before they were escorted to the VIP accommodations on Section B's upper deck.  

Lessing stuck his head around the corner to take a quick look around, then lent back against the wall.

"There's a walled-off section to the left, looks like the bar.  Swing doors may lead to the kitchen.  We'd better check it out."

"I don't like the way the time's going," Mal said, glancing at his watch.  "We ain't even got upstairs yet."

Lessing shrugged, "Shouldn't take more than a few minutes to search those upstairs rooms.  Big open spaces, not much place to hide."

Book was staring back down the corridor looking troubled.

"_Shenme me_?" Mal asked.

"Not sure," Book said. "Just felt like we were being watched there for a minute."

"Place'll do that to ya," Mal said wryly.  "Course, doesn't mean there's nobody there."  He nodded to Lessing.  "Come on."

They slipped around the corner, Mal leading.  The bar was about ten feet from the corridor and the swing doors were right beside it.  Mal stopped so suddenly that Lessing nearly went into him.  One of the doors was swinging ever-so-slightly back and forth.  Mal mentally catalogued his weapons, his surroundings, the men behind him, every shadow between himself and the far end of the bar.  Then he began to inch his way forward, hugging the wall.  They reached the doors and Mal ducked below the window to take up a position on the far side.  Very carefully he began to ease one of the doors back enough to let him see inside.

Things happened very quickly.  The doors burst open and someone came hurtling out, swinging for his head and knocking him backwards against the bar.  He heard Lessing shout and Book and Ossa come charging out of the hallway.  Mal grappled awkwardly with his opponent, trying to free his gun and keep from being hit at the same time.  Lessing was yelling for him to get clear so that they could take the shot.  Mal finally got his feet under him and shoved his opponent backwards so that he could stand.  Bracing himself, he dragged his attacker around and slammed them back against the bar, shoving his gun under their jaw.

"No!"

The voice and a thousand other tiny impressions connected in his mind a split second before he pulled the trigger.  Panting hard, he stared in shock at the person he held pinned against the bar.

"_Suo-yo duh doh dhr-dang.._.Inara?"

One hand gripping the gun barrel, Inara stared at him with huge, shocked eyes, unable to speak.  The metal bar she'd been wielding clattered to the floor.

"_Tamade baichi_, I nearly gorram killed you!" Mal shouted.  Shaking with adrenaline and suddenly furious, he let her go and took two awkward steps backwards.  Inara stared at him as though she'd seen a ghost.  

"Mal?" she asked breathlessly.

"Who the hell is this?" Lessing demanded, gun still trained on her.  Mal ignored him.  He couldn't think of anything except how close he'd come to pulling that trigger.

"_Wu de mah_, what were you thinking?" He demanded.  "You don't come charging out of doors when you don't know what the hell's on the other side!  I know you spent most of your time on Serenity on your back but I thought you'd have learnt at least that much!"

"Captain!"  Book barked.  "That's enough."

"Don't you tell me when it's enough," Mal rounded on him.  "She nearly got herself killed!"

"I think she knows that," Book retorted.

Inara was staring at the Shepherd, her face pale with shock.  "Shepherd Book?  Oh my God."  She gripped the edge of the bar counter as though her legs wouldn't hold her up any more.  "What are you _doing _here?"  

Book pushed his way past Lessing and Mal to take hold of Inara's arm, lending support.

"We came to get you," he said, his voice softening.

"But…the Reavers?"

"Still around," Book replied.

"Then how…" she looked from Mal's furious face to the Shepherd's, bewildered.  "How'd you get here?  Where's Serenity?"

"It's a long story," Book said.  "The abridged version is we've got Serenity waiting a safe distance away and a shuttle coming to fetch us.  _Ni mei shi ba_?"

Inara nodded, "_Xie xie, wo hen hao_."  Then suddenly she was shaking and crying and looking horrified about it, and Book had put an arm around her and was telling her it was alright.  Mal felt like a bastard, but he was still so angry with her for scaring him like that that he couldn't bring himself to speak.  Seeing Book comforting her didn't help.

"Is this the woman you were looking for?"  Lessing asked him.

"Yeah," Mal managed.

Lessing regarded Inara and the Shepherd.  "She's sure got some guts, jumping you like that."

"Damned stupid," Mal muttered.

Inara pushed herself away from the Shepherd, wiping her face as though embarrassed by such a display of emotion.  She glanced at Mal and he caught her expression momentarily unguarded, hurt and confused.  Inara took a breath, visibly making the effort to regain control.  Moments later she appeared pale but composed.

"I really didn't expect to see you here," she said, her voice still shaky.  "I thought you were Reavers.  We were hiding in the kitchen and then I heard a sound out here-"

"'We'?"  Lessing cut in.

Inara looked at him and frowned.  

"Oh, this is another part of the long story," Book said, and hastily introduced Lessing and Ossa.  "They are helping us with the search."

"You said 'we'," Lessing prompted.

"Yes," Inara replied, then pushed past Book and opened the swing doors.  "Wai-Lan? Wai-Lan _xin gan_, you can come out.  It's safe."

Peering over her shoulder, Mal saw a face peeping out from behind a cupboard door. The door opened some more and a young girl of around eight or ten scrambled out.  She stood poised to run, looking at Mal and Book warily.

"Come on," Inara said, gesturing.

Wai-Lan ran across the kitchen and threw herself against Inara, hiding her face.

"Hey there," Inara said, putting her arms around the girl, "_Mei guanxi_.  They've come to rescue us."

A cautious eye regarded Mal, then Lessing.  Wai-Lan pulled back her head and stared at the man in surprise. "I know you!" She accused.

"And I know you," he replied, grinning.  "Glad to see you alive and well, Miss Xuan."

Mal gaped.  "_Juedui bu_, this is the granddaughter?"

"You know her?" Inara asked at the same time.

"Yes," Lessing said to both questions.  "The gods sure are smiling on you, little Miss."

"You were looking for her?"  Inara asked, glancing from Lessing to Book to Mal.  

"Again, long story, and one I'll be quite happy to tell you from the comfort of the shuttle," Book said, then looked significantly at Mal.  "But I think it was time we were going."

It occurred to Mal that against all the odds they might actually be about to get out of this place alive and collect the bounty.  As soon as he thought it he felt a swift pang of doubt.  It was always when he started to think things were going alright that the shit hit the proverbial.  Got had a sense of humour like that.

"I agree, preacher."  He looked at his watch, "We should make it to the airlock about the time the shuttle gets back."  He made himself meet Inara's eyes.  "We gotta move fast, you and the girl gonna be alright?"

"We'll be fine as soon as we're off this _tamade_ station," she replied, her arms still around Wai-Lan, who was holding onto her as though she would disappear if she didn't.  Seconds later they were heading back down the corridor.

River waited patiently for them to go past.  When she was sure they had gone, she opened the door to the restroom and tiptoed on bare feet to the corridor. It was draining, staying out of people's minds.  The shuttle hadn't been difficult, the two soldiers left behind were so worried about people getting in to the shuttle that it hadn't even crossed their minds that someone would be trying to get out.  But out here people were jumping at shadows and it took a lot more concentration.

The corridor was crowded.  People ran past her, their panic a taste on the back of her tongue.  River had to stop often to close her eyes and remind herself that if she still saw them then they couldn't be real.  What was real lay ahead of her, waiting impatiently.  

River sighed.  "All right, all right, I'm coming as fast as I can.  You could've left the lights on you know.  Then I wouldn't have to wait for them so much."

The sense of urgency increased.  Grumbling, she picked up the corner of her dress and scampered into the darkness.

**Glossary:**

**Warning, sexually explicit swear words.**  I have taken these translations from other people's work and I cannot vouch for their accuracy.  My apologies for any glaring errors, please feel free to correct me.  I'd also be interested to know if anyone knows of a website that provides translations from Mandarin in pinyin.

_chùsheng xai-jiao de xiang huo -_  (loosely) animal fuckers

_Shenme me - _what's the matter?

_Suo-yo duh doh dhr-dang.._. - what in the name of…

_Tamade baichi_ – fucking idiot

_Wu de mah _– Mother of God

_Ni mei shi ba? _– are you OK?

_Xie xie, wo hen hao_ – thank you, I'm fine  

_xin gan - _sweetheart

_Mei guanxi - _It's OK  

_Juedui bu - _No way

_tamade – _fucking 


	6. Chapter 6

**Things Fall Apart – Chapter 6**

**Author's note: ** Apologies for the delay, my hard drive crashed.

The shuttle door opened and Zoe ducked out onto Serenity's deck, saying, "Move it, people!  I want everyone off this shuttle as soon as, we're not keepin' the Cap'n waitin'."  As the field medic went past she touched his arm, "Tran, I want you back with us in case we need you."

Simon was trying to flag her attention and saw two of Xuan's men step out of the shuttle carrying a stretcher.  He glanced at the soldier on it, then at another who was leaning on the door frame behind them being helped over by a man in only slightly better shape than he was.  Simon's  mind automatically began cataloging the injuries and running through what he needed to do, but he was torn between duty and the need to know.  He grabbed Zoe's arm and made her face him.  She frowned, looked at his hand, and he quickly let go.

"Is River on one of the shuttles?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice down.

Zoe's eyes widened.  "No," she said softly, "Isn't she here?"

Simon closed his eyes, feeling light-headed.  "_Wu de tyen."_

"She's not here?  You're sure?"  Zoe asked insistently.  

Duvenage stepped out of the shuttle behind her and looked at them, puzzled. 

Simon felt sick. He shook his head, "No.  We've looked everywhere.  The shuttles were the last place left."  He turned away from her and stood staring blankly into space, struggling against despair.  Zoe put a hand on his shoulder.  

"She can't have been with us, we would've seen her.  There were six of us on each shuttle and we left men behind when we went on board.  She must be on Serenity."

"Are you talking about the girl?"  Duvenage asked.

Simon's head snapped around.  Zoe blinked, then said casually, "Crew business, it doesn't concern you."

Duvenage gave her a brief glance, unimpressed by the brush off, and told Simon,  "She's on the station."

"What?"  The word came out as though Simon had been punched in the stomach.

"The girl is on the station," Duvenage repeated. "I thought you knew this."

Zoe's expression had gone cold.  She faced him, hands on her hips.  "And how would you know this?"  She asked.

"That's where she said she was going."

"She said she was…wait a minute, you talked to her?"  Simon asked incredulously. "When?"

"About two hours before we left for the station.  She was on her way to your Captain's shuttle."

"And you just let her walk into the middle of-" Simon began, clenching his fists.

"Doctor!" Zoe reminded him to control himself.  Then in a quieter tone she asked Duvenage, "What exactly 'd she say to you?"

The security chief frowned a little as he recalled the conversation. "She told me she was on her way to the station and that she was meeting someone there, someone who was expecting her.  At least I took that to be her meaning, I did not understand everything she said.  I am sorry, I had thought you knew."

"They're expecting her?" Simon's face had gone chalk white and he looked at Zoe, agonized.

"Why'd you think we knew?" Zoe asked Duvenage, holding Simon's gaze for a long moment to keep him from doing, or saying, something stupid.  

Duvenage shrugged at her question. "Why wouldn't I?  She's on your ship."

Zoe frowned and cocked her head slightly, skepticism obvious. "And you didn't think anything of it, that a sixteen year old girl would be gettin' on a shuttle goin' into a Reaver's nest with our full knowledge?"

"She said she had a purpose.  She knew what she was doing."

"She's sick!"  Simon exclaimed. "She needs help!"

Zoe folded her arms and studied Duvenage closely.  Something wasn't right here.  This man was too damned smart not to figure there was something wrong with River, even if the child was having one of her better days.  "Girl's got a finger-hold on reality at the best of times.  Strange how you didn't think ta mention any of this until now."

The man raised an eyebrow, so calm that it set her teeth on edge. "As her presence here was kept secret, I presumed you did not want us aware of it.  I decided to remain silent until I knew whether my knowledge was likely to create further problems for myself or for my men.  Of course, when I realized you did not know where she was I decided it was more important that I tell you what I knew."

At that moment Wash's voice came over the com.  "Zoe, you there?"

"Yeah!" She said, catching the edge in his voice.

"One of the Reaver ships is on the move.  I think it's heading for the BC airlock."

"_Shee-niou__ guay_, that's where we're meetin' the Cap'n. We gotta get going," Zoe said grimly, and fixed a glare on Duvenage.  "Since you seem ta have a better understandin' of what's happening on this ship than we do, you're comin' too."

Zoe stood aside, leaving the hatch to the now empty shuttle clear.  

The medic, Tran, came clattering up the ramp and stopped, looking uneasily between them as he sensed the atmosphere.  Simon faced Zoe, turning his back to the security chief.

"I want to go with you," he demanded.

"You got patients, an' you stitch better than you shoot," Zoe replied, implacable.

He glared at her, fists clenching.  Zoe's hand hovered, ready to grab for her gun if necessary, but Simon took a quick, gasping breath and seemed to regain a little common sense.

"Bring her back," he said fiercely.

"I'll do what I can," she replied.  Simon abruptly turned and pushed his way past Tran, running down the ramp towards the infirmary.  Duvenage watched him go, his expression thoughtful.  

"He loves her very much," he observed.

"You're wastin' time," Zoe told him.  He sighed, a little rueful, then ducked through the hatch door back into the shuttle.

----------------------------------------------

Mal had taken point on the return trip through Section B.  He was as jumpy as hell, although there was no more reason to be than when they'd come through the first time.  No more chance this time that they'd run into Reavers, except that they were too gorram close to getting what they came for.

They were five minutes away from Section BC airlock when his com crackled.

"Sir!  Sir, it's Zoe.  Can you hear me?"

Quickly cupping his hand around the mouthpiece he said, "Yeah, I can hear you.  You about ready to haul us off this piece of _fei-oo_?"

"Sir, you've got incoming.  There's a Reaver ship at the airlock."

Lessing swore and Inara drew in a quick breath.  Mal felt no surprise, only a cold resignation.  Everything had been going so smoothly that it was almost a relief when it didn't. 

"Which hatch they going for?" He asked

"Lower deck." 

"How far away are you?"

"Ten minutes.  We ain't gonna make it, sir."

"Gorram it, we were nearly there."  

Mal stared into space, his mind racing.  Did they know they were here?  It didn't matter, he had to assume they did and plan accordingly. He wondered absently when he was going to get mad.  If he was going to fight it helped to be mad, but right now all he felt was a cold regret mixed with an even colder resignation.  He recognized the feeling.  It was the same one he'd had waking up each day after the surrender and realizing again that the ships hadn't come, that more people were going to die and there wasn't a gorram thing he could do about it.  He thumbed the com link.

"Gonna have to backtrack, try make it to Section AB lock.  Maybe the hatch still works."

"Sir, they see the shuttle they're gonna know where you are.  That hatch doesn't work you're trapped."

"I know.  I know."  Mal gritted his teeth. "Maybe we can hold the airlock for a bit, jam the doors.  Managed to fix one before, shouldn't be too hard to unfix it."

"What about we send the second shuttle?" Zoe asked.  "Draw their fire.  Buy us a bit of time to get you out of there."

"There's eight of 'em, Zo," Mal said gently, "No way you can outrun them all, an' you'll just end up leadin' 'em back to Serenity.  Best thing is to hold the airlock, get Serenity out of here an' wait for the Alliance ta show up."

"We got a problem there too, Cap'n." Zoe said quietly.

"_Tian__ Yehsoo_, what now?"

"Seems like you had a stowaway on board when you left Serenity, sir."

"What?  Who-?"  And as he asked he knew.  "You have got to be shittin' me."

"No sir, _dan__ nang_.  Duvenage spoke to her."

"He _spoke_ to her?"

"Yes sir.  She said she was goin' to the station, somethin' about a promise to keep."

"When did this happen?"  Mal asked again, incredulous.  "No, forget I asked, we ain't got time.  She's on this station she's on her own, ain't nuthin' I can do about it."   

"Alright sir.  You want us to try for Section A airlock?"

"No, wait until we get there.  If it looks like we can get the hatch workin' an' the Reavers ain't payin' us no mind, I'll wave you.  Otherwise you take Serenity outa here, _dong ma_?"

There was a silence.

"Zoe, you get me?"  Mal asked again.

"It ain't gonna end like this, sir.  Not like this."  

Mal could hear the pain in her voice.  He knew exactly what he'd be feeling if she was the one sitting waiting for the Reavers, and it hurt like hell to think she was feeling that.  "It ends how it ends," he said bluntly. "Ain't got no choice in the matter.  You know that by now, Zoe."

"You give 'em hell sir."

"I've got a mind to.  Now get outa here, wait for my signal."

"Yes sir."

Lessing and Ossa stared back at Mal grimly.  The child clutched at Inara, who had taken the Shepherd's hand and was looking at Mal with frightened determination.  

"You heard," he said to them.  "We got Reavers waitin' for us at the airlock.  Maybe they know we're here, maybe they don't.  Our best chance is to make it back to the other airlock and hold it until the Alliance get here.  Anyone got any bright ideas about how to get us off of this tin can, now'd be the time."

No-one spoke.

"Then we'd better move."  He looked at Wai-Lan, pale with exhaustion.  "Inara, can you carry the girl?"

"I'll take her," Book offered when she hesitated.

"No,"  Inara said quickly. "You're the better shot.  I'll manage."

From down the corridor they heard the warning siren of the airlock door.

"Run!"  Mal hissed.

------------------------------------------------

Inara concentrated on breathing, staying on her feet and keeping up with the pace set by the men ahead of her.  They fled down a confusing maze of corridors, door after door, dodging and turning and not daring to look back over their shoulders at what pursued them.

Wai-Lan grew heavier and heavier in her arms, clinging to her with painful strength.  When they paused to allow Lessing and Book to check the way ahead, Inara gratefully put her down for a moment, leaning against a wall and wondering desperately how much further they had to go.  She knew that she and Wai-Lan were slowing them down, but there was nothing she could do to go any faster.  

"I can run for a bit," Wai-Lan said, her jaw set in determination.  Inara smiled and brushed the child's hair back from her face.  

"Don't worry about me, we'll be there soon," she reassured her.  

Inara knew that the girl must be exhausted.  They'd been awake, running and hiding, for the better part of two days now.  Wai-Lan had barely said a word in the last few hours and had been moving like an automaton, doing whatever Inara told her to do without question.  She was too tired even to cry.  Looking at her and knowing that she still believed that somehow Inara would manage to get them both to safety, Inara found herself struggling against despair.  She remembered talking to Simon and the Shepherd about what they'd seen on the derelict ship they'd found once that had been attacked by Reavers.  All the bodies were grown men, not women and children, although there had been whole families on board.  Inara wasn't stupid, she knew what that meant.

She looked up and caught Mal watching her.

"Here," he said, and held out one of his guns.  "Take it. You've got fifteen rounds, one chambered."

She took it, checked it, then held his gaze. "Thank you."

"Before, when you jumped me-" Mal started to say, then broke off.  

"It's OK," she said quickly.  He frowned a little.

"You were hoping to keep them from finding Wai-Lan, weren't you?"  

They stared at each other.  Inara looked away first, at the gun.  "I didn't have a choice," she said softly.

"You have one now."

Inara looked at Wai-Lan and had to take a slow, calming breath.  She couldn't cry, it would frighten the child. "I don't know if-" she began, and stopped, biting her lip when Wai-Lan leant wearily against her.

"Sometimes there ain't no good choices left,"  Mal said quietly. "You just make the best of the ones you have."

Inara didn't dare look at him and held the girl tightly to her.  It took every ounce of training she'd ever had to smile when Wai-Lan looked up, but it was rewarded when she saw the child's tentative smile in return.  Then Lessing and Book signaled and they were moving again. 

The noises behind them grew closer – running feet, a whooping cry, a quick rhythm beaten out on a wall or door, signals to others somewhere out of sight – and Inara could feel panic creeping over her, a blind desire to run and run and be free of this nightmare.

"Why don't they just get it over with!"  She gasped on one of their brief halts, more for her and the girl's benefit than anything.

Mal looked at her sharply, then at Book.  The Shepherd swore, startling Inara even now.

"They're driving us," he said. 

"Why?" Mal asked, glancing back over his shoulder.

"Maybe they want us careless," Book suggested, poking his head around a corner before following after Lessing and Ossa.

"Thought they just wanted us dead!"  Mal snapped, taking aim and firing off a shot into the dark.  There were whoops and yells, but the sounds of pursuit paused for a moment.  Mal sprinted to catch up with the others.

"They could'a killed us many times over by now," Book shouted back at him. "There is another reason for this."

"I don't think I'm gonna like it."  Mal replied.

"Me either,"  Book agreed. 

"Shall we make a stand?" 

"Could get us killed."

"Never figured I'd be walking out of this alive as it is.  Prefer to go down on my own terms," Mal said.

"Me too," Inara agreed.  Book and Mal both looked at her and the child.

"Tell Lessing," Mal said to Book.  "We make a stand next place as looks good for it."

They heard a yell from up ahead and a wild burst of gunfire.  Then there was a crash from the corridor behind them and a burst of smoke and flames.  They all hit the floor, coughing and choking.

"Stun grenade!"  Mal yelled as soon as he had enough air.  "Be ready-"

But that was as far as he got.  Suddenly there were shrieks and figures surrounding them.  Book was up, firing, Mal rolling to one side and getting off a round, then Book cried out and went down beneath flying bodies.  Mal's gun was kicked from his hand and he was dragged up and flung against the wall, a knife against his throat.  He heard another shot and Wai-Lan shriek in fear.  For a second he feared the worst – that Inara had tried to end it and missed – but then he saw Wai-Lan being picked up by some nightmare creature, kicking and screaming.  Inara was on the ground and shooting, but a Reaver flung himself on top of her and wrestled the gun from her grasp.  He lifted her bodily, holding her immobile in a grip that would break an arm if she tested it.  

Mal stood frozen, staring into a face he could barely call human.  There was a knife at his throat, another at his gut, but he wasn't dead and by rights he should have been.  Mal he looked into the man's eyes and landed a solid punch to his jaw.  The Reaver went flying backwards and instantly two others took his place, each grabbing Mal by an arm and slamming him back against the wall.  One landed a couple of punches in his gut, the other grabbed his hair and thumped his head against the wall.

"Hou op!  Ons wou nie hom vermoer nie, ons het hom nodig."

The beating stopped.  Mal sagged to his knees, dazed.  He heard Book groaning some way further up the corridor and Wai-Lan was still screaming.  The Reaver holding her backhanded her across the face and she shut up.

"Well, well, Sergeant Reynolds.  I never thought to see you again, this side of Hell anyways," said the voice that had ended the beating.  Mal's head jerked up.  The man in front of him was dressed pretty much the same as the rest of the Reavers, which meant he was wearing more weapons than clothing, bare-chested, skin covered in tattoos and scars.  Only this man had boots, unlike the majority of his men.  Mal studied a face covered with tattoos, scars and a dozen piercings, utterly unfamiliar to him.  Then he noticed a tattoo on the man's neck and narrowed his eyes.  He'd see that tattoo somewhere before, years ago.

"War's over now," he said cautiously, struggling to hold on to the recollection.  "Ain't no Sergeant any more."

"Figured that, since you was on the loosin' side," the man said, grinning without humor.  "Last I saw you, you an' the company were retreatin' off of the hilltop where you'd left me for dead."

Mal frowned.  "There were a lot of hilltops.  Lot of men got left for dead.  Maybe you noticed it was a war."

"Oh, I noticed," the man said.  "Always figured you did me a favour leavin' me back there, seein' as how I wasn't dead."

Mal was silent.  The man shrugged.

"Agh, not very likely you'd have noticed me back then.  I was just another dumb kid with a rifle and nothin' left ta loose.  Looks like we've both moved on."

There were noises from further on up the corridor and a group of Reavers came back, dragging Lessing and Ossa.  They dumped the two men on the floor.  Ossa moved, Lessing didn't.

"So's we got some understandin'," the man said, staring at Mal, "You're alive because we want you that way.  For now.  That changes, an' how you die is gonna depend on how much trouble you an' yours give me an mine."

"You harm my people, you'd better make sure you kill me," Mal answered coldly, but the man was already turning away.

"Kom, hulle wag vir ons," he said to his men.

_End of Chapter 6_

Glossary:

Chinese

Wu de tyen - God in Heaven

Shee-niou guay – shit urine hell

Fei-oo – junk

Tien Yeshoo – Sweet Jesus

Dang nang – I'm almost certain of it

Dong ma – understand

Afrikaans

Hou op!  Ons wou nie hom vermoer nie, ons het hom nodig – Hold it!  We don't want to kill him, we need him.

Kom, hulle wag vir ons – Come, they're waiting for us.


	7. Chapter 7

**Things Fall Apart – Chapter 7**

The Reavers picked up Lessing and Ossa, slung Wai-Lan over someone's shoulders, kicked and dragged the rest to their feet and began a quick march towards the airlock. There was blood on the floor where the Reavers had lain in wait for them, and Mal felt a grim satisfaction that some of those being carried were their own men. It soon faded. Book was ahead of him, one arm hanging uselessly, and he saw Wai-Lan's pale, terrified face looking back from over one of the Reaver's shoulders. There were weapons all around him, but going for one would probably get him killed. No point doing that unless it gave the others a chance to escape, and there was no chance of that now. All he could do was wait for an opportunity to present itself. 

They were taken through the airlock back into Section A, then on into the central stairwell where there were more Reavers guarding the access point to the upper decks. Their captors led them through a set of doors that had been propped open and into the banqueting hall.

Inara was ahead of him and Mal saw her hesitate and stumble as she was shoved forward. As he went through he saw why, and stared with a kind of dull horror at another vision of hell. The Reavers had set up camp. There were hordes of them scattered around the room, and every one looked as dangerous as their captors. Some were grouped around tables where an assortment of loot had been laid out – weapons, jewelry, clothing, anything that might have some value to be traded. Not far from the tables lay a pile of bodies, most of them stripped, many mutilated. They were below the balcony to the upper deck entrance. Captured soldiers had been strung up from the railings, dangling from their necks or their feet depending on the mood of their executioners. Mal hoped none of them were still alive, and tried not to look too closely as the bodies were pushed aside for them to pass.

The captives were marched to the far end of the hall beneath what had been the view port, although it was sealed shut now. Many of the Reavers turned to watch, and there was a chorus of whoops and shouts as they crowded around, grabbing at them and gabbling excitedly. The Reavers who held them bristled, snarling at anyone who came too close and beating off the incautious with heavy blows. Against the wall were huddled another group of captives, mostly older girls and young women, although there were three teenage boys off to one side. Some of the captives were children little more than Wai-Lan's age, and they all showed signs of rough handling. Mal's group were led between them and either dropped or shoved to the floor.

"Sit still and shut up," the leader snapped, glaring around at the crowd that had followed them. He said something to his men, who formed a tight circle around them, weapons drawn. Then he left.

"You know that man?" Book asked Mal, leaning back against the wall and breathing heavily. He held his wounded arm awkwardly to one side. There was a deep cut from elbow to wrist, still seeping blood.

"Not so's I'd recognize him now," Mal replied, "But I ain't that surprised. Heck, some of the things I seen in the war made me wonder how far we were from Reavers anyways." He abruptly cut off that line of thought and examined Book's wound. "Gotta do somethin' about that. I ain't the doctor, but I think I can get it to stop bleeding." 

Cautiously, keeping one eye on their captors, he began peeling back the shredded sleeve. The Reavers seemed more concerned about the crowd of kinsmen that surrounded them than their captives. Book laughed a little at Mal's concern. 

"Doesn't seem much point," he said. "Probably a better way to die than anything the Reavers can think up." Then in a lower voice so that Inara and the child wouldn't hear, "Lessing's dead."

Mal glanced at the man's body lying at their feet, then at the Reavers protecting them.

"Zhe shi shenmo lan dongxi?" He muttered.

"I don't know," Book said, gritting his teeth as Mal tore open the sleeve. "We should be dead."

Mal grimaced. "I always figured I'd be headin' for hell myself, so I can't say as I'd be overly surprised to find out this is it. Thought you had the man on your side though. Looks like getting' religion ain't all it's cracked up to be, does it?"

"If I was dead then this arm wouldn't be so ni tamade painfull," Book hissed as Mal used the tattered pieces of cloth to fashion a tourniquet. 

Mal had just finished tying a tourniquet when there was a commotion at the back of the crowd and a gradual lessening of the din. Ossa was stirring, raising his head dazedly. He looked up at the two men who had pushed their way through to the front. One of them was the old soldier. The other was a much taller man, heavily built, what could be seen of his arms and face covered in tattoos. Unlike every other Reaver Mal had seen he carried only one visible weapon, a hunting knife on his belt. 

Mal heard Book draw in a sharp breath and glanced at him, then did a double take. The preacher's face had lightened several shades and he was staring at the tall Reaver like a man in shock. Mal looked back and saw the tall Reaver's eyes narrow, but that was as much a sign of recognition as he gave. The old soldier muttered something to him and the bigger man nodded. The old soldier gestured and the crowd behind them parted. River stood on the other side.

Inara gasped, and Book muttered an oath. River stepped through the crowd like a cat walking on broken glass, face pale and fists clenched. Every Reaver in the crowd strained forward and there was a murmur as she passed by, although Mal couldn't understand what they were saying. River stopped a few feet away from the two Reavers at the front. She was staring at the floor, flicking quick glances at those that surrounded her. 

"Which of these are your people?" The old soldier asked her. River blinked several times and her mouth worked, but she stayed silent. The Reaver repeated the question, surprisingly patient.

"You told us there were three. Which of these are your people?"

River's eyes slid to him and back again. Her hand shot out, pointed to Mal, then Book, then Inara.

"These ones?" The old soldier asked, mimicking her gesture. River nodded.

"My tribe," she said, her voice high and sharp. "They're not to be harmed."

The old soldier grimaced. "They're alive."

"They're not to be harmed!" River insisted, glaring at him.

"They'll not be harmed," he agreed, not meeting her eyes. 

The big Reaver spoke suddenly, and there was a general shifting and muttering from the crowd. Reluctantly they began to disperse, leaving only those who had been with the old soldier. Then the big man glanced at the old soldier and said something. The old soldier grinned, and as the big man turned away he gestured to his men. They immediately fell on Lessing's body and Ossa, who shouted and struggled. Two of them grabbed for Wai-Lan, but Inara clung to her and wouldn't let her go. Mal scrambled up to intervene and was clubbed across the head and knocked to the floor.

"River!" Book shouted. "Stop this!"

River screamed, and everyone froze. She stood shaking and panting, teeth bared.

"Let her go! She is mine!"

The Reavers dropped Wai-Lan as though she was rabid and Inara snatched her back. The old soldier snarled, "You did not say she was one of your people!"

"I claim her by blood debt. She is the sister of the man who is beholden to my kin, and therefore beholden to me," River rattled off, and frowned suddenly at Wai-Lan. "Your brother lives," she added.

Wai-Lan looked at her with huge eyes and wailed, "Yuxi! I want Yuxi!"

Inara stroked her hair, trying to quiet her down.

The old soldier spat to one side. "There is much blood debt in your tribe," he growled and glared at Mal, who was being helped upright by Book. "Good thing for you, or you'd better believe you'd've been hangin' by now." He turned and followed his men. River hovered, hands clenching as she glanced between them. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, then turned and ran out of the hall after the tall Reaver.

"What about me?" Ossa screamed as he was dragged towards the balcony. "What about me? Help me!"

There were yells and whoops from the Reavers as they stripped Lessing's body, showing the same efficiency with Ossa as they took shirt, boots, and anything else they wanted. Then a couple of the Reavers wound chains around Ossa's ankles and threw them over the balcony railing. Book started to pray under his breath and Inara turned Wai-Lan's head away, covering the child's ears. 

"Mal, can we do anything?" she asked under her breath.

"No," Mal said bluntly, his face frozen. "I think the only reason we're alive just left the room. Ain't gonna risk it."

"How did River get here?" Book asked, incredulous. 

"Zoe said she smuggled herself in on one of the shuttles. That girl's got some talent, I'll give her that."

"What is she doing with the Reavers?" Inara's voice shook and she fixed her eyes on Mal's face, refusing to look across the room for fear of what she'd see. 

Mal let out a slow breath, "Don't know. Can't say I've ever understood River, nor the Reavers neither. Maybe they got somethin' in common there." 

He made himself examine the room while the Reavers hung Ossa up by his feet and began the slow process of killing him. The other captives sat staring dully into space, apparently indifferent. Not even the children cried any more. Mal could see four exits, all of which had around twenty Reavers watching them. The trade tables were doing good business and several Reavers picked through the pile of bodies, hoping to find something the others may have missed. Arguments were frequent and solved with blows as often as not. If it hadn't been for body count and the dress code, Mal could've mistaken it for a market day on any of a dozen different colony worlds.

"You knew that man," Mal said to Book after a time, wanting to distract himself from the screaming.

"What man?" Book asked.

Mal turned and grabbed Book by the collar, shoving him up against the wall. "Hundan! Be straight with me, dong ma? This is not the time or the place for this go se!"

"Mal!" Inara had hold of his arm, "Please don't!"

"This man lied to us! All this time he pretended he knew nothin' about Reavers, even when he was prayin' over the bodies of the people they had killed. He let us walk right into this!"

"Please don't Mal! Book, there's no point, just tell him."

Mal's glare turned from Book to Inara, shocked. "You know? You know what it is?"

"Shenme? Bu qu!" Inara shook her head violently, "No Mal, but I know he's hiding something."

"She doesn't know anything," Book said, his good hand grabbing hold of Mal's wrist. "Let me go Mal, I'll tell you what I can."

Mal's grip on the preacher's collar loosened and he eased himself back, still glaring. "You know that big Reaver," he insisted. "I saw it in your face. He recognized you."

Book sighed and closed his eyes for a brief moment. He looked exhausted, and Inara touched his good arm gently. He opened his eyes and smiled a little.

"Mei guanxi, wo hen hao." Then he looked at Mal and the smile died. "I knew that man, yes. But I don't understand any of this. I meant it when I said we ought to be dead. Nothing I know can explain why we aren't."

"About anythin' you can tell me would be more than I know now, and that'd be better'n nothin'," Mal said, flinching at the sounds coming from across the room. 

Book took a slow breath, his reluctance obvious. "You already know I wasn't always a preacher." 

"You always did know way too much about the mind of a sinner," Mal agreed.

"There are a lot of reasons why a man might choose to leave his former life," Book cut across him, annoyed. "It's been the better part of a decade since I took my vows and I'm still not free of my past. The reasons why I chose to leave are my own and will remain so. Much of what I was, of what I did, I cannot talk about, not even now. There are many reasons for that, and one of the most important ones to me is your protection. I will not endanger your lives with knowledge that will be of no use to you."

There was enough bitterness in his voice to keep Mal silent. Book stared across the room, his face drawn with pain as he watched the Reavers' sport. 

"About fifteen years ago, before the Alliance called themselves the Alliance, I was involved in a project called Bladerunner. We were to conduct a threat assessment on the Reavers, study their capabilities and determine whether they posed a substantial risk to the core worlds and their colonies." Book grimaced at Mal and Inara's incredulous expressions. "Some of those I worked with were convinced we had been set up to fail, and they weren't wrong. It was almost impossible. I had made some enemies and I imagine they hoped I'd end up dead or discredited, either was good enough for their purposes. Anyway, we spent the better part of our time chasing rumours and shadows. As soon as we became aware of an attack it was over, and we would be left with nothing but smoking ruins. The Reavers were too unpredictable and moved too fast. Settlers who survived were often unable or unwilling to tell us much about them. The few Reavers we managed to catch ended up dead before they could provide us with any useful information." Book shook his head slowly. "You've got to understand how they think. They consider death in battle the only fitting way to die, and would rather die than be captured. Reavers don't surrender. They also don't take prisoners."

"Then what are we? What are they?" Mal jerked his head towards the group of silent women and children. 

Book sighed, staring at his hands. "They don't take prisoners, but they do take slaves."

"Is that what we are? Slaves?" Mal asked.

Book glanced quickly at Inara and Wai-Lan and shifted uncomfortably. "Most of the slaves are women and female children, although sometimes they will take boys. The only way an adult male lives is to become one of the Reavers. The only way to become one of the Reavers is to survive their initiation, and you don't get that chance unless you've proved yourself a worthy opponent in battle. I told you, none of this makes sense. You and I should be hanging with Ossa right now."

"River said that we were her tribe," Inara broke in. "And she said that she claimed Wai-Lan by blood debt."

The Shepherd examined Wai-Lan thoughtfully. "She said that Wai-Lan was beholden to her through the debt of a relative. Do you think she knows that Wai-Lan's brother was rescued?"

"Only thing that makes sense, if you can call it that," Mal agreed. 

"I still don't understand how she became involved in all this," Inara said, shaking her head.

"Well she seems to have some knowledge of Reavers, because one of the few things that they do respect is tribal ties," Book explained. "In Reaver society, your crew is your tribe. Much of the body modification – tattoos, piercings, hair and clothing – indicates tribal relationships. A blood debt, such as the one that River claimed for Wai-Lan and I presume she claimed for us, is usually incurred for saving a crew member's life in battle. You incur such a debt, and it becomes the duty of your family – your crew – to honor it. These ties are many and intricate among the crew of any particular Reaver ship."

Mal's eyes narrowed as he examined the preacher. "I'm missin' somethin' here. You said you spent your time chasin' rumours, tryin' to catch yourselves a few Reavers. Exactly how did you learn so much about them?"

Book looked away again, his jaw clenched. For a long moment he was silent, and they could hear the sounds coming from across the hall with disturbing clarity. Inara rocked Wai-Lan and hummed a tune under her breath, trying to drown them out.

"Preacher," Mal prompted, unable to take the silence any longer.

Book sighed again. "You're right, we learnt hardly anything that first year. Most of what we know comes from the men we sent to infiltrate Reaver society."

Both Inara and Mal stared at him in disbelief. 

"How'd you manage that?" Mal demanded.

"They went willingly?" Inara asked. 

"They were handpicked from a group of volunteers. We had thirteen men to begin with. It was stupid, but we were desperate. Our careers were riding on the project's success. We thought we knew what they'd be facing. We thought they were prepared." He closed his eyes. "My God, we were so arrogant."

"How many of them survived?" Mal asked quietly.

"Two made it out. We found seven bodies. The rest we assumed to be dead."

"Only now you think differently," Mal added.

Book stared across the room at the door the tall Reaver had left by and drew in a slow breath. "Depends whether you consider this living. The two men who made it back, the things they had seen, the things they'd had to do to survive…. You cannot stay sane. Your only defense is to become what they are, and what they are is about as far from anything resembling humanity as it is possible to get."

"Oh, I don't know," Mal said grimly. "There's plenty evidence for madness among us civilized folk. Never thought war was particularly sane, an' you an' I both know what that creature Niska's capable of. He'd likely be able to teach this lot a lesson or two."

"Wu de tyen ah," Inara murmured under her breath, closing her eyes briefly. Both Book and Mal looked at her, then guiltily at each other.

"You got any idea if River's new friends'll let us walk out of this one alive?" Mal asked under his breath.

"None. The rules have all changed, and I don't recognize the game," Book replied.

"Jen dao mai, someone else holds all the cards and we're makin' it up as we go along."

Then there was nothing left to say, and nothing left to do except listen to Ossa dying and the sounds of Reaver life continuing on around them. Wai-Lan hid her face against Inara's shoulder, and Book tried to pray but found the words stuck in his throat. Mal's mind wandered back to another place with the sound of men dying around him, sitting and waiting for it to be his turn. He closed his eyes, suddenly exhausted. When he opened them again, River was standing in front of him. 

Mal started and swore. Book and Inara looked up. River stared at Mal, unblinking.

"You have to come," she said earnestly. 

The Reavers on either side of her stepped forward and grabbed Mal, dragging him to his feet. Inara made a sound of protest and tried to hold on to him, but Wai-Lan clutched at her, terrified, until she was forced to let go. Book struggled to his knees.

"Where are you taking him?" He demanded as the Reavers, one holding each arm, half carried and half dragged Mal away. River glanced back over her shoulder at the priest.

"To see the wizard and show him the path to righteousness," she said. "Don't worry, you'll get your turn."

She ran to catch up to the Reavers, leaving the Shepherd to stare after them.

"Don't cry."

It was Wai-Lan's voice, and Book turned his head to see the child staring up at Inara. There were tears streaming down her face, and Wai-Lan was trying to brush them away.

"Inara, please don't cry," the child pleaded, her face crumpling as she began to sob. 

Book reached for the Companion's hand, his own eyes filling with tears. She held on, her eyes never leaving his face.

"How do you keep your faith?" She whispered, rocking the child. "In this place, how do you keep your faith?"

"In this place, faith is all we have," he answered.

They held each other, and waited.

Mal found his feet about halfway across the hall and pulled angrily against the Reavers' hold.

"I can walk, gorramit!" 

He was ignored. The Reavers pushed him through the door down. There were more Reavers here, but of a different breed to those in the ballroom. These were silent, watchful, every one heavily armed, and Mal spotted more than one piece of army issue – clothing, boots, weapons, and the odd tattoo. There wasn't one of them without a weapon of some sort in his hands. Deserters, Mal thought to himself, or those for whom the War would never be over. River skipped ahead of them now, down the corridor and through another door, and Mal was all too happy to follow her away from the cold eyes of the men who guarded this place. 

The room River led them to had been a small theatre. There were rows of chairs facing a stage, and a balcony above their heads as they entered. Mal looked up before he remembered why he shouldn't, and was shocked to find that there were in fact no bodies dangling from the railings. There were more of the ex-military guards though, commanding a view of the auditorium. More on stage too, along with the tall Reaver they had labeled as the leader. And next to him on the stage was a boy in a wheelchair.

Mal blinked, sure he must be seeing things, but the scene remained the same. The tall Reaver stood with one hand on the back of the wheelchair and River bounded up on stage to stand on the other side, hands behind her back. The boy, who Mal realized was not as young as his slight build had first made him think, regarded him with his head lolling to one side. He raised a hand with an awkward, jerking movement, touching River, who glanced at him in question. The boy said something, the words so garbled that Mal couldn't understand him, but River answered readily enough.

"This man was a leader for the Independents in the War. He fought the Alliance in Serenity Valley. If you want to know what it means to lead your people into war, to know what you will face and what your people will suffer in facing your Great Enemy, this man can show you."

The boy's head rested against the back of the chair as he regarded her. River stared back at him solemnly, then said as though she was answering some question left unspoken, "You will have to trust me. I will show you the paths you may choose and where some of them have lead. That is what I promised. After that, the choice is yours."

The boy's head fell forward and he regarded Mal from beneath a cowlick of mouse-brown hair. His hands twitched and jerked, then lay still in his lap. Mal returned the stare. He flicked a glance at River.

"What is this?"

"Shhh," she admonished him, "you are not the one asking questions here."

"I think I got a right, since you seem to have switched allegiances. Mind tellin' me why?"

"Hush!" River snapped, "neither the place nor the time, Captain. Play the cowardly lion."

Mal's frown deepened. "I ain't understandin' you River, and I'm about through with patience. You got me an mine held hostage by a bunch of savages as likely to kill us as look at us. You got some explainin' to do." 

The tall Reaver grunted and said impatiently, "Jy mors tyd. Wys vir hom hoe ernstig ons is."

One of the men holding Mal pulled a knife, gripped his hair and put the blade to his throat.

"I really wish you would listen to me, Captain," River said apologetically. "I bought your life with my own, you see, but the currency doesn't go far here. Please don't make it any more difficult than it has to be."

"Hao ba, no more questions," Mal agreed, wincing at the sting of the blade.

"Kom nou, dars geen tyd vir hierdie kak. Doen wat jy't gesê jy wil doen en maak dit vinnig," said the tall Reaver to River, who nodded quickly and dropped to her knees to rummage through a large bag on the stage behind the boy in the wheelchair. 

The tall Reaver gestured to the two who held Mal, and they dragged him up onto the stage and then shoved him to his knees in front of the boy. River turned around, holding up a syringe and a small vial. With careful concentration she drew the liquid into the syringe, checked the amount, then looked expectantly at Mal.

"Hold out your arm please."

Mal stared at her. "You have got to be joking."

She looked a little surprised. "I assure you I am very serious, Captain. Please hold out your arm."

"What is that?" He asked, nodding towards the syringe.

"It's a powerful hallucinogenic. It produces an effect similar to lysergic acid diethylemide so I'm told, only the effects are more controllable," River said, studying him intently. "Don't worry, it isn't addictive and there aren't any side effects. At least I don't think there are." She looked thoughtful. "That's what they told us when they gave it to us, but it was experimental…" River shook her head suddenly, "Oh well, I never suffered any ill effects so you should be fine. Your arm please."

Mal raised his eyebrows, "You're gonna inject me with some kinda drug that makes me hallucinate? After the day I just had? You must be fong luh. It ain't gonna happen, River. "

She sighed. The tall Reaver nodded to the two Reavers holding him. They wrestled him to the floor, then sat on him while they held his arm immobile.

"If you'd calm down it won't hurt so much," River said gently as she rolled up his sleeve. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm going to be taking it too. And I was always top of my class in the practicals."

"That's just great, I'm gonna have a crazy person for company," Mal snarled as he struggled against the Reavers' hold. "River, don't do this. Don't you do this to me."

River deftly inserted the needle and depressed the syringe. Mal let out a string of swearwords. After a time he stopped struggling and said despairingly, "This ain't no way for a man to die, River."

Her expression was sorrowful, and she touched his face tentatively. "I'm sorry Captain, but you won't die. Not this time."

"No, I guess that'd be too much to hope for," Mal murmured. He closed his eyes and waited.

Glossary

Chinese: 

*Zhe shi shenmo lan dongxi?*  What the hell is this?  

*ni tamade* fucking  

*Hundan*  asshole  

*go se* crap  

*Mei guanxi, wo hen hao*  it's OK I'll be fine  

*Wu de tyen ah*  Dear God in Heaven   

*Jen dao mai*  Just our luck  

*Hao ba*  alright  

*fong luh* nuts

Afrikaans: 

*Jy mors tyd.  Wys vir hom hoe ernstig ons is.*  You're wasting time.  Show him how serious we are  

*Kom nou, dars geen tyd vir hierdie kak.  Doen wat jy't gesê jy wil doen en maak dit vinnig*  Come on, there's no time for this shit.  Do what you said you wanted to do and make it quick.


	8. Chapter 8

****

Things Fall Apart – Chapter 8

Inara had no idea how long she'd been asleep. Waking up was disorientating, her mind clung to the belief that it had all been a bizarre nightmare and it took several seconds – and quite a lot of willpower – to anchor herself in reality again. She could only imagine the reason she dozed off had something to do with the fact that she'd been awake for two days and scared out of her wits for most of that time. It amazed her how even now, in the middle of a Reaver camp, the needs of the body overcame the fears of the mind. Perhaps there was some lesson to be learned in that.

Wai-Lan slept on, curled up with her head resting in Inara's lap. Inara shifted her weight slightly, trying to get blood flowing where it hadn't for some time. At her movement the Shepherd glanced her way and smiled a little.

"Mal?" She asked quietly, hoping he would know something new, but he shook his head.

"I'm sorry, they won't say anything. They did bring us some water though." Book gestured with his good arm towards a pitcher that had been placed at their feet. His eyes strayed to the sleeping child, and he cautiously leant over to pick up the pitcher and pass it to Inara. She took it gratefully, noting his involuntary grimace of pain.

"How is your arm?" She asked.

"Oh, it's not as bad as it looks." He held it up for inspection. "The bleeding has stopped. I am going to have an impressive scar, unless River's brother can work his magic."

But Inara could see the sweat on the Shepherd's brow and the slight tremor in his hand. 

"The pain is bad," she stated. He met her eyes, his carefully controlled expression relaxing a little.

"The pain is bad," he agreed.

"I may be able to help," Inara offered. "I have learnt some techniques in acupressure, and some breathing and meditation exercises."

"That would be appreciated." Book smiled briefly. "What about yourself?"

"What about me?" She asked, wondering whether to wake Wai-Lan for a drink of water.

"How are you coping with all that has happened? With all this?" Book's gesture took in the ballroom, the Reavers, the other prisoners. "Does your training prepare you for this?"

Inara's eyebrows rose. "No-one's training prepares them for this, Shepherd. You said as much yourself. I suppose I am as well as can be expected," she studied the sleeping child. "Truth be told, she has been my strength. She has so much courage, and so much faith. I am terrified that I will fail her."

"Take your lesson from the child, Inara," Book said gently. "There is no success or failure here, there is only faith. Our fate is not ours to command, nor is anyone else's. Leave that in the hands of whatever it is that you call God."

She looked at him, her expression grim. "I'm sorry Shepherd, but in a situation like this I am more inclined to believe that there is nothing up there watching over us, over women and children like these," she nodded towards the other captives. "This is not the hand of God, or fate, or destiny, or whatever else you may care to call it. This is the hand of man." 

There was a commotion at the far end of the room and they both looked around. The Reaver commander – the old soldier who had fought with Mal – was stalking across the room, swearing in three different languages. He was followed by several of his men. The old soldier snapped something, and his men ran ahead, grabbing Inara and dragging her to her feet. Wai-Lan was woken roughly and began screaming. Book tried to hold onto her as well as Inara, but was kicked and punched aside. Wai-Lan hurled herself forward, snatching hold of Inara's dress. One of the Reavers picked the child up and flung her back. The child's head thumped against the wall and she fell down, dazed. Inara cried out and struggled to get to her, but the old soldier stepped forward and grabbed Inara's hair, forcing her to look at him.

"You will stop or the child dies."

Instantly Inara was still. The old soldiers lip curled and he spat to one side, letting her go.

"Julle's als dieselfde, mak, swak, en vol kak. I haven't one good gorrammed idea what he wants with any of you."

He turned on his heal and marched back across the ballroom.

"Look after her!" Inara shouted back over her shoulder as she was dragged away.

"With my life!" The Shephrd assured her, turning to Wai-Lan. The child was conscious and didn't appear too badly hurt. She wailed and tried to scramble to her feet to follow after Inara, but Book held her back.

"Wai-Lan, calm down meili. Stay with me and we'll wait for her here, dong ma?"

She gulped back sobs and looked up at him doubtfully. "She's coming back?"

"Just as soon as she can," Book replied, praying that he wasn't lying to the child. "She'll be back and we'll get to go to Serenity and see your brother. You want that, don't you?"

Wai-Lan frowned and wiped her eyes. "What's Serenity?"

Book breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed his hold on her a little bit. "What's Serenity? Well now, that's a story for you! I'd better start at the beginning."

---------------------------------------------------

Inara was marched quickly across the hall and through the door into a corridor heavily guarded by men who looked at her with cold, speculative eyes and commented to each other as she was taken past them. As they reached the end of the corridor one of the bigger men said casually, in a heavy accent,

"Don't need no prophet, I can tell you what's in your future meisiekind."

There was laughter from the others, including those holding her. Inara kept her head high and her face expressionless. There was no point in anything else.

She was taken through a pair of swing doors leading into an auditorium. Inara had only a moment's confused impression of plush carpet, velvet drapes and dark wood before her attention was snatched by the scene taking place on the stage.

River was kneeling, rocking backwards and forwards with her head in her hands. There was a boy sprawled awkwardly next to her, being held in the grip of the tall Reaver leader, the ex-soldier that Book had sent to spy on the Reavers more than a decade previously. Despite his size and obvious strength the man was having trouble holding on to the boy, who's body was spasming violently. A few feet away from them three more Reavers struggled to hold on to Mal. 

Inara's first thought was utter relief to see Mal alive again. Her second was a confused mix of fear and annoyance, because the way he was behaving could get him killed at any moment. He was shouting and gesturing violently, struggling to pull free of the men who held him. As Inara was taken closer she noticed that he was sweating heavily and staggering, and he stared right through her as though he didn't even see her. In fact he seemed completely unaware of anyone around him. What he was saying made sense, although it had nothing to do with what was going on. Bewildered, Inara wondered if he was drunk. 

Suddenly Mal shouted a warning and threw himself forward. At the same moment River screamed and flung herself flat on the ground, and the boy's body jerked so hard that Inara could hear the crack of bone where his head hit the chin of the man holding him. The old soldier who had fetched Inara broke into a run, leapt up on stage and helped the three Reavers holding Mal to wrestle him to the floor. The Reaver leader spat a mouthful of blood to one side and snarled,

"Dis nou genoeg, moor hom!"

The old soldier pulled out a gun, cocked it and put it to Mal's head.

Both River and Inara screamed "No!" at the same time. The old soldier shot River a glance, grimaced and turned to his leader in silent query. At the same time the men holding Inara abruptly let her go, looking from River to her with what seemed like fear. Utterly confused by their reaction but not about to let that stop her, Inara shoved the Reavers aside and ran towards the stage.

"Don't kill him!" River had scrambled to her knees and reached towards Mal, although she couldn't seem to bring herself to go any closer to him. 

"Jy kannie hom beheer nie!" The Reaver leader growled, obviously struggling to keep from shouting at her. 

River's face was pale and drawn with pain, but her jaw was set stubbornly. "You promised! It isn't his fault!" 

Halfway across the stage, Inara hesitated and her gaze shot to River in accusation. "What have you done to him?"

Mal suddenly cried out in despair and slumped to the floor. River gasped and relaxed, closing her eyes in relief. The boy in the Reaver leader's arms cried out in a voice uncannily similar to Mal's, and his body abruptly stopped its spasms. Inara spared him a brief, disconcerted look, then ran over to Mal and knelt down. The Reavers pulled back a little, glancing between her, River and their leader uncertainly. Inara put a hand to Mal's forehead. The skin was hot and clammy.

"He's got a fever. How did this happen? What did you do to him?" She demanded of River again. 

River opened her eyes at the question, blinking as though struggling to focus. "Results are inconclusive," she stammered. "It could have been a pre-existing sensitivity to the drug, which I could not have predicted, or perhaps a combination of stress factors and mental state. I was basing the dosage on bodyweight and metabolism, but I may have allowed the urgency of the situation to influence my calculations. Caution is advised where there is a lack of medical history."

"You drugged him?" Inara stared at her, horrified. "What for? What did you give him, River?"

The girl gestured helplessly, tears welling from her eyes. "It's just a dream. He should've woken up by now. I couldn't find the way out. There wasn't a way out. How was I supposed to know that?" 

She broke off as Mal suddenly twitched and murmured something. Inara lent down. His eyes were open but unfocussed, and he was completely unaware of her. She pressed light fingers beneath his jaw, feeling the racing pulse and her own steadily rising anger at this sudden bizarre twist, the mercurial infliction of suffering for reasons utterly beyond her understanding. Inara looked up, her eyes dark and cold. "Use that genius brain of yours, River. Do you think you have the cornerstone on suffering? Do you think you're the only one who has to fight for a hold on sanity? You've seen him walking Serenity night after night, trying to keep from sleeping because the minute he does he'll be back there, in his own private hell. What possible purpose can it serve to make him go through that again?" Her eyes narrowed. "I'd have thought you'd have had enough of torture by now."

River burst into tears. Inara turned away and found that her hands were shaking. 

"Give him to me," she said to the old soldier, who's gun was still drawn. "I'll look after him."

"He's mal," the Reaver sneered at her, enjoying the play on words. "Be a danger to everyone around him in this state. Best put him out of his misery."

"No!" River sobbed, turning to the Reaver leader. To Inara's surprise it wasn't the Reaver she appealed to but the boy in his arms. "This isn't right, this isn't how it is supposed to be."

The boy stared back at her, lying sprawled in the big Reaver's embrace. "We do not have the antidote, and it could take hours for the drug to wear off. We must proceed with the second subject. Neither you nor I have the strength to navigate two minds at once."

Inara looked from River to the boy in amazement. The words were slurred, but once she had worked out the impediment it was possible to understand him. She examined the boy more closely, suddenly wondering what his role here could be. 

River had become still. The look that went between her and the boy was uncommonly direct as she said, "There are more reasons for this journey than the answers you seek. There are more travelers on the road than you and yours. The moment has not passed, the decision has not been made. There is still time." She turned to Inara, her tear-streaked face oddly intent. "I have a debt to pay, and promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep. This is my fault," she paused, a spasm of pain crossing her face. "I led him back there and I lost him. But he will follow you, I know he will." Her eyes suddenly filled with hope. "Please help. I haven't the skill to fix him, and without him we are broken."

Unable to maintain her anger in the face of River's childlike distress and wanting Mal out of this mad and dangerous place, Inara nodded. "I'll do what I can," she said wearily. Then she saw the boy and the Reaver leader watching her and added with determination, "I'll keep him from disturbing you, I promise." There was no doubt in her mind that Mal's life depended on it. 

The old soldier's hand was clenched on his gun and he looked at his leader. Some understanding passed between them and the old soldier abruptly stood up. "You got your chance. Get him up."

They hoisted Mal to his feet, where he stood swaying and staring blankly into space. River took a half step towards them, stopping when Inara looked at her.

"Give him some water, and make sure the lights are kept low," she said earnestly. Inara didn't answer and turned to follow the Reavers as they led Mal into the wings. 

"You are wasting your time with him," the boy told River as the Reaver leader helped him back into his wheelchair. "You know that he's broken inside."

"Broken things can be fixed," River said, staring mournfully after Mal and Inara.

"Not all things. Not you and I, for example," the boy said. When River turned sad eyes on him he met her gaze with gentle pragmatism. "I know you don't want to believe that, but you must know the truth of it by now. What was taken from us cannot be replaced. Our wounds are physical, but his are no less deep for all that."

River looked down, twisting her hands together. "My brother doesn't believe that," she retorted, then in a quieter voice, "Sometimes putting broken pieces together can make things work, even if the pieces didn't come from the same place."

The boy's smile humoured her determined hope in the face of the evidence. "Yes, that is true. I suppose there is a certain irony to the fact that together we can do the thing that they broke us to achieve. Their most promising pupil and the piece of scrap they threw on the garbage, thinking there was no more use for me."

The Reaver leader, who had been listening in silence, grinned like a wolf. "Ain't it amazin' what you can find when you go trawlin' through rich-folks' garbage?" Then his expression grew cold. "Time you worked your magic again, prophet. There's a few questions I've been meanin' to ask this next one, an' I been waitin' a gorramned long time for the answers."

-------------------------------------------

The Reavers took Mal down a narrow passageway behind the stage and shoved him and Inara into a room that looked as though it had been used for storage. The old soldier stood at the door and looked them over contemptuously. 

"He gets violent, he's dead," he told Inara, watching Mal as he stood staring vacantly into the middle distance.

"Get out!" Inara snapped, suddenly loosing her temper.

The old soldier looked her up and down. "I'll be waitin'," he said, resting his hand on his gun. Inara stared at him in silence until he closed the door behind him.

Immediately they were alone she turned to Mal.

"Gu zao de! What have they done to you?" 

The way he stared right through her made her shiver. 

"They'll come tomorrow. They gotta come tomorrow," he murmured, suddenly pushing her aside and taking a couple of steps forward, straight into a stack of chairs. They went crashing to the floor and Mal looked around wildly. Inara glanced nervously at the closed door and grabbed hold of one arm to steer him away.

"They bombing again?" He asked. 

"No Mal, it was just an accident." She stopped him and examined his face. He was looking around, searching for something. "What are you seeing?"

He frowned. "Nothin'. Not a damned thing. Where'n gorramed hell are they?"

"Where are who?"

"The Alliance! We surrendered already! Don't they know what's goin' on down here? We need water, medics, blankets. Gorrammit, ain't no-one got the strength t' pull a trigger anyways!"

"Oh Mal…" Inara closed her eyes for a second. When she opened them she was horrified to see tears on his face.

"Chuseng xai-jiao de xiang huo!" He swung one arm in a sweeping blow that connected with Inara's face and flung her backwards. She went crashing into the chairs and fell awkwardly. Mal was oblivious, swearing and lashing out, his blows meeting the walls, a cabinet, empty air. Inara cowered, trying to keep out of his way. The door burst open and the Reavers came storming back in, guns drawn. 

"No!" Inara struggled to her feet and tried to get between them, but she was all tangled up in the chairs. Mal had mercifully stopped swinging when the door opened and turned to stare at the Reavers, barely concerned to find three guns leveled at his chest. 

"Didn't think no-one had any ammo left," he commented in surprise. Then he saw the old soldier and his eyes narrowed. "Bates? Wu den ma, I thought you were dead! Good to see someone made it off that gorramned hill. How'd you do it? Alliance had us pinned down for three days before we ran outta ammo and had to retreat. Didn't think they left anyone alive up there."

The old soldier stared at Mal, mouth working as though he was chewing something bitter. There was a silence that could've been cut with a knife. Mal looked between them and then seemed to come to some realization. He held up his hands slowly.

"Hey, if you guys were hopin' to find some rations I'm afraid I can't help you there. Ain't had a bite to eat in three days myself." 

The old soldier shook his head. "Mal," he muttered, but he lowered his weapon. He glared at Inara. "You keep him quiet. Don't care how you do it, but we got orders that he ain't to disturb the prophet and the witch girl. Verstaan?"

She nodded.

"Uit," he said to his men. They left, closing the door again behind them. 

Inara's knees gave in and she sagged onto a chair that had somehow ended up upright, forcing herself to take deep breaths to slow her heartbeat. Mal looked at her in confusion.

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" He asked her. 

Inara didn't dare to laugh in case she burst into tears. "No. I have no idea at all."

"Makes for two of us," Mal commented, staring at the closed door. Then his expression grew doubtful, and he studied her.

"What are you doing here? Am I dreaming?"

She returned his look, seeing how he had planted his feet like a man afraid he would fall, how his shoulders slumped and his face was pale with exhaustion. She answered carefully. "Yes. They drugged you and now you're dreaming about Serenity Valley, but the war ended years ago. It's over, Mal."

The pain and confusion in his eyes hurt her. He shook his head, rubbing a hand across his face.

"Diyu, lehai le," he muttered.

She stood, put a hand on his arm. "Sleep. You're safe for now. I'll be here."

He nodded, sighed, put his back against the wall and slid down onto the floor, closing his eyes.

"Jus' a few minutes," he murmured. "Gotta keep an eye out for them medics."

Inara flinched but said nothing, waiting until he was asleep before she let herself cry.

-------------------------------------

When they came for the Shepherd, Wai-Lan clung to him in terror.

"Please don't leave me! Please don't leave!"

Book took hold of her hands, prying them from his shirt. "Xiao meimei, it's alright. You must stay here with these people." He looked at the other women prisoners, but they all avoided his eyes.

"Will you look after her? Please?" he asked.

The woman sitting nearest to him glanced his way in horror and shook her head. "No! I can't!"

"Just keep her with you while I'm gone," he said gently. "That's all I ask."

She shook her head again and turned away, clutching at the blank-eyed child in her arms. 

A young girl sitting next to them studied the preacher without expression and then said to Wai-Lan, "Come here."

Wai-Lan stared at her, leaning back against the Shepherd.

"Go to her," he said, glancing over his shoulder to the advancing Reavers. "Quickly now. What's your name, girl?" 

"Annabelle," the older girl replied and held out a hand to Wai-Lan. "Come."

Wai-Lan looked doubtfully up at the Shepherd, and reluctantly crawled over. The older woman watched fearfully, rocking her child. 

Annabelle took Wai-Lan's hand and pulled her back against the wall. They watched as the Reavers dragged the preacher to his feet and marched him across the hall. Wai-Lan began to sob, and Annabelle squeezed her hand.

"Shut up," she whispered. 

Wai-Lan kept crying. One of the Reaver guards looked at her in irritation and the woman with the blank-eyed child quickly moved away. Annabelle's grip on Wai-Lan's hand tightened until she whimpered and tried to pull away.

"Shut up!" Annabelle hissed. "If you don't shut up they're going to kill you."

Wai-Lan gulped and stared at her with shocked eyes.

"They kill little girls who cry," Annabelle told her, nails digging into Wai-Lan's skin. "You want to live, you keep quiet, you do what they want. _Whatever_ they want," she repeated through gritted teeth. "You don't, you're dead. Dong ma?"

Wai-Lan nodded, looked up at the Reaver guards fearfully and wiped the tears from her face. When none of them paid her any more attention, she rested her chin on her knees and turned her attention to the door at the far end of the hall. She wasn't stupid, Wai-Lan knew that those who had gone through that doorway were most likely dead. Grown-ups sometimes thought children were too dumb to figure things out, but she would really have had to be stupid not to have looked around her and drawn a few conclusions about the likelihood of living much longer. What she wanted to know was whether what lay beyond that door was the road to heaven or the road to hell. She had heard about people seeing a tunnel of light when they died, and the glimpses she'd caught through the doorway had born that out. It was a thought that both fascinated and terrified her, and she had a few thoughts about purgatory too. Wai-Lan had asked the preacher lots of questions, but he hadn't been able to answer all of them to her satisfaction. The next time the door opened and the demons came out, Wai-Lan would be watching. 

****

Glossary:

Chinese 

Gu zao de! - This can't get any worse!

Wu de ma – Mother of God

Chuseng xai-jiao de xiang huo! - Animal fuckers!

Diyu, lehai le - Hell, I'm exhausted

****

Afrikaans

Julle's als dieselfde, mak, swak en vol kak – You're all the same, tame, weak and full of shit.

Meisikind – girlchild

Dis nou genoeg, moor hom! - That's enough now, kill him!

Jy kannie hom beheer nie! - You can't control him!

Mal – mad


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note:  **About the bones – there are 206, according to my source.  This fanfic is also posted on Fireflyfans.net, for those wanting more Firefly-specific fanfiction.****

**Things Fall Apart – Chapter 9**

The boy in the wheelchair watched as they brought the preacher into the theatre, with many of the Reavers gathered out in the hall following them inside, jeering and spitting.  The boy turned to regard the Reaver leader.

"Remember what our purpose is here," he instructed.  "This is neither the time nor the place to settle old grudges.  We must look to the future of our people, not our past."

The tall Reaver's expression flickered, but he continued to watch the preacher's approach with icy intensity.  River glanced between them apprehensively.

"He is my tribe now," she said, her voice sounding thin in the silence of the auditorium. "He took a different path."

"And it lead him right back to me," the Reaver leader said grimly, speaking in the common tongue for the Shepherd's benefit.  "It's almost enough to make you believe again, ain't it Shepherd?"  

The Reaver spat out the last word, and River saw Book flinch.  They had stopped a few feet from the edge of the stage, the crowd of Reavers behind them falling silent in anticipation. The preacher looked up at the Reaver leader, his gaze unwavering.

"I am called Shepherd Book now," he said calmly.

"So you're calling yourself a man of God now," the Reaver leader said, shaking his head slowly.  "Looks like your God has a few scores to settle with you still, don't it preacher?  Do you see what the Great Betrayer does to those who believe in Him?"  He asked of the Reaver deserters and ex-soldiers crowding into the theatre.  "You are delivered into the hands of your enemies!"  

There were shouts of approval, and the Shepherd was jostled and dealt a couple of heavy blows before their leader gestured for silence.  The tall Reaver folded his arms and studied the Shepherd, half smiling.  "You see, I learnt my lesson along with all my people.  Don't look to no God to save us.  We look to our own, those as gave us the skills and savvy to survive out here in the black when we were abandoned by you 'n your God."  He spat to one side in disgust.  "I know what you are!  I know what you've done!  No amount of prayin's ever gonna repay the debt you owe the spirits of those who died following your orders.  Once," he snarled, holding up one finger, "Once a man is betrayed. Only dumb animals stay with the herd when they see their brothers and sisters, their parents and children being slaughtered and think that the farmer will not turn on them.  Once!  No more."  He paused for breath, glancing around at his men, many of whom were shouting their agreement.  "Loyalty to the tribe, honour to your brothers, freedom for my people.  That is what I have learned out here in the black.  No power in this verse gonna give us what we need, so we take it.  We gonna take what we need from you."

Shepherd Book looked down, studying his hands as the Reavers around him chanted their leader's name.  As they grew quiet he raised his head and met the Reaver leader's eyes squarely, "You are right, I cannot repay the debt I owe to those who died.  But River is also right.  I have chosen a different path now, one that allows me to right some of the wrongs that I see in this 'verse.  Perhaps balance up the books a little.  If there is some way that I may do that for you and your people, pay you back something of the debt on my soul, then I will gladly do so.  But if I may I would also like to ask a question."  

The Reavers looked thoroughly unimpressed with the Shepherd's willingness to co-operate.  Their leader folded his arms, snorting contemptuously.  "The lamb bleating on the way to the slaughter."  He nodded to the boy in the wheelchair. "You had better ask it of the prophet, perhaps he can tell you what level of hell your God has reserved for you."

The Shepherd stared at the boy in surprise.  Until that moment he had dismissed the cripple in the wheelchair as just another strangeness in a strange place, but now Book became aware that every Reaver in the room was regarding the boy with a mixture of fear and reverence.  Book glanced at River, who rolled her eyes and said impatiently, "No, not that question Shepherd.  You already know the answer.  Ask something interesting."

The Shepherd opened his mouth, reconsidered, closed it again, briefly frowned at River and then addressed the boy. 

"I do not understand why you are here.  Why did you attack this station and destroy the colony ship?  In a few hours the Alliance's battleships will arrive and you will be forced to retreat.  What will you have gained?"

"Why do you think we are here?" The boy asked in his laboured, slurred speech.  

At the Shepherd's continued frown, River started to explain what he had said.  Book shook his head impatiently.  "I understood, thank you River.  You must know that you will not stop the Alliance by destroying one ship or one space station," he said quietly to the boy.  "They will build another _Serendipity_, and another, and they will destroy you if you attempt to get in their way.  Many of the men here have seen what happens to those who try to fight them the way you are doing.  You cannot hope to win."

The boy shifted in his chair, an impatient movement.  "What am I?" He asked.

Book looked at River, then warily back at the boy.  "I…could not say."

The Reaver leader laughed.  "He is our prophet, Shepherd.  Your God sent you prophets back in the day to show your people the way, only seems like your people didn't want this one.  So we took him.  Now he's doin' for us what he could'a been doin' for you."

Book's expression stayed guarded, and the boy made a gargling sound.  It took the Shepherd a moment to realize he was laughing.  

"You don't believe," the boy said.  "What, a prophet must be dead before you do?  Where is your faith, preacher?"

"It is not that I do not believe you," Book explained, glancing again at River. "I have only recently seen some remarkable things, things that could easily be described as miraculous.  It is just that the explanations for such events often raise more questions than they answer.  I am…cautious.  I presume that it was you who lead these men here.  However, I am still unclear about why."  

The boy's amusement faded, and his head fell forward as though he was suddenly weary.  "The answer to your question is obvious if you think about it.  It's a matter of perspective."

"But if you are a prophet, what need do you have of me?"  The preacher asked.  "What need do you have for any of us?"

"What use is a vision if you do not know what it means?" the boy asked in return, struggling to turn his head and look at River.  "What I see does not always make sense to me.  Information is of no use if one does not understand its significance."

River smiled at him, and said to the Shepherd as though explaining to a child, "If you are standing at a crossroad and you can only see down one path, how do you know whether another might not be better?  You ask other travelers, that's how." 

The Shepherd stared at her without comprehension, then his face suddenly cleared.  "And we are those travelers?" He asked.  River sighed at how slow he was.

Book considered this in silence, wondering if he had benefited at all from knowing what it was that these children thought they were doing.  It was as though every answer he received was part of a puzzle, and he only glimpsed part of the picture through their fractured explanations.  That was assuming he had understood it as they did.  What was even more disconcerting was the knowledge that the Reavers believed in this boy's vision, but what exactly they believed their place was in it and how they would act as a result Book could not begin to guess.  Religion was a minefield of possible misunderstanding, and he was only beginning to understand the complexity of the subject.  

However, there was one question that seemed imperative, if only because River and this strange boy were involved.

"How exactly do you plan to find out the information you need?"  Book asked.

"River," the boy said shortly.  It was both an answer and a command.  The Reavers who held Book took him by the arms and propelled him forward, lifting him up onto the stage.  River grinned at him with great pride.  

"I was always top of my class in the practicals," she explained, then darted away to fetch a large black leather bag.  

Book said, "I am assuming that both the Captain and the Companion have been subjected to this?"

River looked up, her face suddenly guilty.  The preacher did not find that comforting.

"The Captain has been questioned," the boy confirmed.  "He was…more than helpful."

"He is still alive?"  Book asked.  There was a brief, crowded silence. River had absorbed herself in hunting through the bag for whatever it was. 

"He's alive," the boy said, and Book had to be content with that.

The Shepherd was forced to his knees, and two of the Reavers grabbed his wounded arm and held it firmly.  River knelt next to him and deftly undid the tourniquet.  

"You have to loosen these every half hour or the rot sets in," she told Book.

"I know that River.  Can you tell me about Inara?  Is she alive?"  Book asked insistently.  River inserted the needle and looked at him with sorrowful eyes.

"She lives," she replied.  

Book sighed in relief, "Oh, thank God.  Thank God." 

The Reaver leader had come up to stand beside the boy and eyed Book with contempt. "Hope you made peace with your inner demons, preacher, coz you're about to meet 'em."

----------------------------------------------------

Mal woke up screaming.  He was on his feet, grabbing for a gun that wasn't there and shouting, "Frazer, get down!  _Ben dan_, there's snipers on that ridge, you'll never make it!"

"Mal, no!"  Inara was out of her seat, trying to get between him and anything dangerous in the small, crowded space.  "You're dreaming, it's just a dream!"

"He's gonna get himself killed!  What's that gorramned idiot doing?  He can hear me, I know he can!"

"Mal, you're having a nightmare, the war is overI"  She managed to steer him away from a pile of plywood and plaster covered in garish paint.  Props, perhaps?  There were nails sticking out of them and her dress snagged on one.  Inara tugged at it wearily, putting yet another hole in her clothing.  Many more and it'd be falling off her.  

"_Yuchun hwu dan_…he can hear me," Mal said in a quieter tone, "He's just not listenin'.  Frazer's gone crazy, he's tryin' to get himself killed."

Mal stared at a scene only he could see, eyes wide with horror.  Inara forgot about her dress and took two quick strides to put herself in front of him, grabbing hold of his arm.  "Mal, look at me.  Look at me!  It's not real. The war is over."

He ignored her.  She felt his body jerk, his mouth sagged open in shock and one hand went up in an unconscious warding gesture.  Mal said, "No!" almost convulsively, then lunged forward.  

Inara reacted instinctively and pushed back, hands braced against his chest.  She was nearly knocked off her feet again, but he staggered to a halt and looked down at her, his expression naked with pain and confusion.  

"Get out of my way!"  He pushed at her, but as quickly as he realized she was there his attention was gone again and he was shouting, "Frazer, you _qingwa cào de liúmáng_!  Why'd you do that?"

It occurred to Inara to be really afraid of his strength. If he knocked her out or otherwise made it impossible for her to keep the promise she'd made to the Reavers to keep him quiet, he would be killed.  She had to do something and fast, before the Reavers came through the door again.  Knowing she couldn't hold on to him for long, Inara put a hand on either side of his face and forced him to look at her.  "Look at me, Mal!  What you're seeing is a dream.  You have to get control of yourself or you're going to be hurt."

He drew back, shaking his head, "No, I saw him die.  I can still see him dying," but he looked doubtful as he glanced back over her shoulder.  

She made him look at her again. "Think about it!  I wasn't in the war with you.  What you're seeing isn't real or I wouldn't be here.  You've been drugged.  You're remembering what happened a long time ago.  The war is over." 

For all she thought it would reassure him, there was suddenly real fear in Mal's eyes. 

"Let go of me!" he tried to pull away from her, bewildered by her resistance.  "I don't understand, why is this happening?  _Kwan Yin_, I'm goin' mad!" 

She could feel the tremors in his body, a reaction from the drug, and he was breathing too quickly.  He was beginning to panic.  Keeping her voice low she said, "Please, try to stay calm.  You're not going mad, you've been drugged.  You need to keep calm if you're going to control these visions.  The drug will wear off and you'll be fine, I promise."

But he wasn't looking at her any more.  He was staring into the distance again, searching, and she felt his body twitch as though he had heard something.  Mal swore under his breath and his expression grew cold and murderous.  It was Inara who panicked then.  

"Mal, stop it!"  Frantically she grabbed hold of his hands and held them to her body.  "Do you feel that?  I'm what's real!  Stay with me, please stay with me."

It worked.  He stared at her in shock, hands clenching convulsively.  "What're you doing?"

Inara reacted as she had been trained to, using everything she had been taught to keep a man's attention with the added intensity of knowing that his life depended on it.  She moved closer to him, holding his gaze, refusing to let him look away. 

"Stay with me," she told him, dropping her voice to a soft, urgent whisper. "The only thing that's real here is me, Mal.  Hold on to me."

For a moment she actually wondered if he would push her away.  His expression held such a conflicting mass of emotions – confusion, hurt, fear, and the desire she'd always known was there – that she couldn't say which of them would win.   He swallowed heavily.

"You…you said you ain't never…" he broke off in confusion, then tried a different tack.  "Why're you doin' this?" 

"Because I don't want to see you hurt," Inara replied, thanking every deity she knew at that moment that he had not pulled away, that his hands had stayed where she had put them, and consciously shoving all her order's dictates to the back of her mind.  There would be time for repentance later, if they lived through this.  Now she just had to keep him focused….  She moved closer still so that her thigh brushed his, and heard the faint catch in his breathing that told her he'd felt that.  "Let me help you Mal.  Please."

"But you left," he said simply. 

She was still, hearing questions beneath that statement that she didn't know how to answer.  The coldly analytical part of her mind pointed out that this was why her order had all those rules.  It gave her a very clear idea of how she should answer those questions in a sane, rational way.  But this wasn't a sane, rational place.

"You found me again," she replied, and there were questions of her own in her answer.

He studied her in silence, and she saw something like an understanding on his face – that the answers to those questions were the same anyway.  Then his breath caught and he closed his eyes, his whole body tensing.  

"Inara, what's happening?  I keep seein' things I don't want to be seein'.  I can't stop it.  Why doesn't it stop?"

She leaned forward and kissed him.  At first he froze, then one hand came up to catch her at the back of the neck, holding her for a moment before he pulled away.  

"'Nara, don't, not like this-"

She quickly reached up and touched his mouth with her fingers to shut him up.

"I know, it's OK," she whispered.  "This'll pass, and I'm not going anywhere until it does.  Just hold on to me, _dong ma_?  Don't let go."

The hand at the back of the neck slipped around to cup her cheek, his fingers gentle even if his hand was shaking.

"_Ni hao mei_," he said softly. "I didn't believe."

"Didn't believe what?"

He didn't answer.  The shivering was getting worse.  Inara eased him down onto the floor, looking around for something to keep him warm.  There was nothing.

"It's OK, you're going to be alright."  She held on to him, using her body to keep him warm, closing her eyes and indulging in a wave of relief.  

Over her shoulder, Mal watched the nightmare unfold. 

----------------------------------------------

There was a great tree standing in the middle of a field of grass.  It was mid summer and the sky was a clear, faultless blue, seeming even more intense against the brilliant green.  Book stood about half a mile out into the field, knee deep in grass, breathing in the sweet scent of earth and growing things.  The sense of tranquility was palpable.

River stepped up on his left.  She was wearing a light summer dress and was barefoot, looking around with a smile on her face.

"I like this place," she said.  "Is it real?"

The Shepherd was surprised.  "You're asking me?"

River glanced at him sidelong.  "It's your dream."

"I remember a place like this," said the prophet, stepping into view on the Shepherd's right.  Book stared at him in astonishment.  On his own two feet and suddenly much more of a lanky young man than a boy, the prophet smiled at him.  "I'm older than I look, and I wasn't always in a wheelchair you know.  I leave it behind whenever I can."

Book smiled tentatively in return.  "I can understand that.  You said you knew a place like this?"

"When I was a child I lived in a place a lot like this one," the young man took a long moment to look around.  "There were mountains on the horizon, and from the top of them you could see the ocean."

"It sounds like paradise," Book commented.

The young man shrugged, his expression suddenly wistful.  "For a child, perhaps.  But we are not children, and we must put away childish things.  Show me."

"Show you what?"  Book asked.

River grabbed hold of Books hand.  "Show us where you buried the bones," she said, and tugged him forward.

They were under the tree, which now seemed to tower above them, it's lowest branches well out of reach.  Deep shade stretched beneath the canopy, reducing the field outside to a narrow strip of light and grass.  The air was cool and still.  Book stared upwards, trying to see the sky, but was interrupted by River scrabbling at the earth at the base of the trunk.

"What are you doing?"  Book asked her urgently.  "Don't, River, you'll get yourself all dirty."

The young man, who was standing to one side and watching her, looked at him with a frown.  "Help her then."

Book stared doubtfully at the dark patch of earth that River had cleared.  "I…I don't think I want to."

"You might as well, your hands are already dirty."

The Shepherd looked down and found his hands blackened with muck and earth.  He hadn't even noticed before.  Reluctantly, he knelt down beside River.

"What are you looking for?"  He asked her.

She sat back, brushing hair from her eyes and leaving a black streak on her forehead.  "Do you always ask questions you already know the answer to?  It's your dream, you tell me what we'll find."

Book stared at the shallow pit already dug.  "Bones," he said, and began digging.

The day grew hotter, until the air beneath the tree became stifling.  When Book paused to take a break and look around, he was surprised to find that the branches of the tree were now bare.  The sun was beating down on them from a cobalt sky, and the fields of grass had bleached yellow in the heat.  Tall stems waved in a breeze he could not feel, whispering like the ocean.  The young man who was a prophet stood a few feet away, staring at the horizon and shading his eyes with one hand.

"Have you found them yet?" he asked without turning around.

"Just a few."  Book looked at the collection of bones that lay neatly beside him on the baked red earth.  "Do you know that many ancient peoples used to tell fortunes with bones?"

"Oh yes," the young man examined what Book had found. "It is still practiced today by witchdoctors and fortune tellers on many different worlds.  I don't subscribe to it myself.  You will have to tell me the story of these bones."

Book picked one of them up and studied it.  He thought it was part of the wrist, a small piece of the larger puzzle.  "The story," he murmured, and a quick spasm of pain crossed his face.  "One for each of them."  Abruptly his fist closed around the fragment and he stared grimly up at the young man.  "Old bones are best left buried."

"My people are going to die, preacher."

Book frowned.  "What?"

The young man squinted in the glare of the sun as he studied Book's face.  "I'm a fortune teller, remember?  I saw the future, and I saw my people dying.  I saw that there was no place for them in this 'verse, nowhere left for them that the Alliance couldn't follow.  They were being wiped out."

Book absently rolled the bone between his fingers and said to hurt, "There's plenty of folk would say that that's not a bad thing."

"'Cept the folk it's happening to," the young man replied.  "But I'm not finished.  It wasn't only my people dying, preacher.  It was men in brown coats.  It was poor people struggling to make a living in the border colonies.  It was folks in the core worlds, rioting in the streets, being shot at by men in Alliance uniforms.  I saw the future for all of us, preacher.  I saw the Alliance's future.  The center cannot hold, and chaos will be loosed upon the worlds.  Only they didn't want to believe me."

Book stared at him, and now the young man had stopped talking the only sound in the shimmering heat was River, humming a tune as she scrabbled at the red earth.  The young man laughed a little and shook his head.

"They looked at me like you're looking at me now, and they decided they didn't like what I saw.  So they didn't believe me.  I'm not a machine, Shepherd.  I don't get programmed to see what people want me to see.  They left me to rot in a high security medical facility on some god-forsaken moon because they didn't like the answers I gave them."

The young man abruptly broke off, turned and stalked away, his bare feet raising puffs of red dust from the hard-baked ground.  After a moment Book called after him, "Don't go into the grass, there are snakes out there."  

The young man stopped, standing with his back stiff and straight, staring towards the horizon.  Book stood up, feeling his shirt sticking to his chest and back.  A hot, dry wind was blowing up from the south.  It felt as though he was standing in front of a blast furnace.  He followed after the young man, stopping a couple of feet behind him.  

"That seems like a pretty clear vision to me, prophet.  I don't see as you need much explaining from me or mine to help you understand it."

"I don't need to understand it, I want to understand how to prevent it."  The young man turned his head, regarding him coldly.  "If there's one thing I've learnt about the future, it's that it's always in a state of flux.  I've had this vision countless times, Shepherd, and every time it's different.  Sometimes I'm standing on one side, sometimes on another.  Sometimes the Alliance troopers shoot the rioters, and sometimes the rioters overrun their positions.  And once," he smiled a little, "once I even saw a place with no soldiers, just ordinary people living ordinary lives.  I thought I'd seen heaven."  The smile faded.  "I need to know why the visions change, Shepherd.  I need to know which path to choose, and I need to know who will be taking that path with me."

The tiny piece of bone in Book's closed fist was biting into his flesh.  He made himself relax a little, saying dryly, "Well, you certainly know how to talk the part of the prophet.  The Alliance are going to regret letting you fall into Reaver hands."

"I hope so," the young man snapped back.  "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Tell me the story of the bones.  Show me what you know that I should know."

Book studied the boy thoughtfully. "Alright.  On one condition."

The young man's eyes narrowed.  "What is it?"

"You tell me exactly what it was that you saw.  Everything, including what you learned from the Captain.  If there's any truth to your vision, then we all should be doing something to prevent it."

The young man stared at him in silence for a heartbeat.  "Done."

Book looked suspicious.  "That was too easy."

The young man shrugged.  "Just because we're on opposite sides doesn't mean we can't agree on something once in a while.  So talk."

Book sighed, opened his hand and let the bone lie in the center of his palm.  He held it up until it was level with his eyes and those of the prophet.

"A bone for every one," he said softly.  "I woke up one day and I realized that I had personally killed as many people as there were bones in the human body.  Many more had died indirectly of course, but these were the ones I watched die.  I don't even know all their names.  It is such an intimate experience, being there when someone dies, but I had become numb to it.  I felt nothing anymore.  I didn't even feel God.  That frightened me."  He closed his hand and met the young man's expectant gaze.  "This is going to take some time."

----------------------------------------------------

Some time later, River, Book and the prophet sat at the base of the tree next to the trench that River and Book had dug with their hands.  Beside them a skeleton had been neatly laid out on the dry red ground, each bone in its place.  Book was staring up at the tree, which towered above them.  There were two branches extending out on either side of the trunk, and the significance was not lost on the Shepherd.

"I didn't expect it to be so high," he murmured.

The prophet glanced at him, then up at the towering cross.  "It's a wonder you managed to get the body down," he agreed.

River had her knees tucked under her chin and was staring at the bones with an expression somewhere between horror and fascination.  "I never even felt it," she whispered.

Book studied the body with some curiosity.  His own face stared back at him, skin grayed in death, the pristine uniform now covered in red dust.  "I think I look better now," he said matter-of-factly.

"I'm not so sure," the prophet commented, staring mournfully at the body of the boy.  "I think I looked better then."

"They must've broken me when they took me down," River said to no-one in particular. "They should have been more careful.  All those pieces, how did they ever hold together?"

Book looked from one to the other.  "I thought this was my dream."

"Perhaps we're seeing your answers to our questions," the prophet suggested, standing up and taking a slow look around at the desert landscape.  "I like this place too," he said.  "You can see the bones of things here."

The Shepherd stood up more slowly, wryly conscious of how his old bones didn't take so easily to sitting cross-legged on the bare earth any more.  "Many a good prophet has come out of the desert," he agreed.  "The climate seems to agree with them.  Come, River, time to be going."

She glanced up at him.  "We're just going to leave them here?" she asked of the bones.

"I think so," Book looked up at the brilliant sky.  "It's time they were left out in the sun and air.  Well, prophet, do you know the way?"

"River will show us," the young man said, holding out his hand to her.  She took it and stood in one quick movement.

"There is one more path I need to show you," she told the prophet.  

"I know," he smiled.  "It was a crossroads, I can count."

Book's eyes widened in surprise.  "But I thought…wait a minute, who else is there?"

But River and the prophet were already walking towards the horizon and didn't answer.

**  
**

**Glossary:**

Chinese _Ben dan – _ you idiot 

_Yuchun hwu dan_ – stupid son of a bitch

_qingwa cào de liúmáng_! - frog-humping sonofabitch!

_Ni hao mei_ - You are so beautiful


	10. Chapter 10

**Things Fall Apart – Chapter 10**

Serenity

Simon hadn't been kept as busy since his residency days in a public hospital in downtown New Athens.  Twelve badly wounded patients, all needing surgery – five of them major – meant that he didn't get a chance to think for a long time.  He was aware that the Reavers had made it to the airlock before Serenity's shuttle could, and that Zoe and Xuan's security chief, Duvenage, had been forced to return without the others.  After that, things blurred.  One part of him continued to function – his body kept working on the blood and torn flesh and broken bones – but he couldn't seem to hear or feel anything.  He knew that Kaylee was talking to him, looking at him with such compassion on her sweet face that he'd had to turn away, but he couldn't have repeated what she had said to him if his life had depended on it.  None of it made any sense anymore.  How could River be gone?

How could she be gone?  He stared at the walls of his cabin where he'd retreated when he'd finally finished, trying to wrap his mind around the idea.  He'd shut the door, refusing to allow anyone to comfort him.  It didn't feel real, and comfort meant nothing if you felt nothing.  Simon recognized this sensation.  Despair was something he'd become familiar with in the two years he'd spent hunting for River in a universe suddenly unrecognizable, where the good guys were no longer the good guys and the bad guys were his only hope.  It had been like some kind of bad net series, full of conspiracy theories and paranoia.  In this 'verse, morals were a hindrance, but perversely that had given him an edge.  They'd underestimated how far he was willing to go for his sister.

River was the only person who had loved him unconditionally, the only person he'd loved unconditionally in return.  Somehow, deep down inside, they'd both known that their parents found their careers and their social lives more important than either of their trophy children.  Growing up, Simon and River had comforted each other and looked out for each other, unconsciously filling the void no amount of wealth could.  Their parents' loyalties had been made brutally clear when Simon had been arrested trying to find River.  He didn't think he'd ever forget that moment, the keen sense of betrayal revealing that he'd still hoped to be proven wrong.  After that, there had been no-one and nothing besides River.  Finding her, rescuing her, and healing her had been his purpose.  Now she was gone, and there was no reason for any of it any more.  He slumped onto the bed, dragging the cover over himself to ward off the chill that seemed to seep into his bones.  His last conscious thought was a vague curiosity about whether the 'verse would exist when he woke up, because he couldn't imagine a future without River.

"You don't have to, baichi."

She was sitting on the edge of her bed, watching him.  Simon stared, speechless, his mind emptied of anything but shock and disbelief.

"I'm not a ghost, if that's what you're wondering," she said, studying him with her usual disconcerting intensity.  "You're asleep, dreaming.  About time too, I've been waiting ages."

"I'm dreaming," he murmured, and looked around at the bedroom as though looking for evidence of this fact.  "I'm dreaming I'm on Serenity?  And that you're here?"

"Yes," she agreed, "but I'm real, Simon.  I'm here because I need to talk to you."  She grinned at him, then rolled her eyes.  "It's ironic that this was the easiest way, but you never listen to me when you're awake.  And it's such hard work, navigating people's minds.  All I have to go on is instinct.  Who'd have thought the best intellects in the 'verse would end up relying on instinct?"

Simon sat up, staring at her greedily.  A thousand questions were clamoring in his head, and he asked the first one that to mind.  "Why did you go to the Nexus?"

She cocked her head and her expression softened, as though she'd caught a glimpse of how fragile he was. "I had promises to keep," she said gently. "It wasn't anyone's choice but my own, so don't you go blaming them.  And don't you go blaming yourself either, I'm tired of you taking all the credit for my decisions."

"Credit," he almost laughed.  Was it his imagination or was she making a little more sense than normal?  Perhaps the fact that he was dreaming helped. "River, I don't understand any of this.  That man Duvenage said he spoke to you, that you told him you were going to the station.  Why did you talk to him and not me? Or the Captain?"

River frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about, I didn't talk to anyone."

So much for her making sense.  Simon blinked a couple of times in confusion and said slowly, "But…he said that you said…something about promises.  That's how we knew where you were."

River shook her head impatiently.  "I didn't talk to anyone.  But that's not important now.  You need to concentrate, Simon, I haven't got much time."

"For what?  If I'm dreaming then surely we've got all the time in the world?"

"You might, but I had to wait ages before you went to sleep and they're getting impatient.  I need you to listen, Simon.  Listen to me carefully."

He stared at her intensely and murmured, "Of course, you're probably dead and this is a fantasy I've cooked up in my head." It hurt just saying it, but the thought that this might be some kind of stress-induced delusion wasn't far from his mind.

River sighed and briefly closed her eyes.  "Simon, I'm not dead.  Will you please listen?"

"I'm dreaming you're alive?"

"No!  I _am_ alive, Simon, but there are four other people who's lives are in very real danger if you don't listen!"

"If I'm dreaming you're alive, only I think you're dead, but in my dream you say you're alive, then what-"

"You know, you really can be liou coe shway duh biao-tze huh hoe-tze fuh ur-tze!"

"Hey!" Simon protested, "No need for that kind of language, River.  If you want me to listen, then I'll listen."

"Xie xie ni," River sounded so relieved that Simon realized that a lot of her irritation stemmed from a real sense of urgency.  It made his heart jump, as River's fears often did. 

"I'll try to explain, but you have to promise to hear me out."  She stared at him significantly until he nodded agreement.  "Remember what you talked about with the rest of the crew that night the bounty hunter came?  Remember what they said about me, about what I can do?  They were right, Simon.  You're not imagining things, I'm alive and well and on Nexus 7.  You are dreaming.  I can put myself into your dream so that you can see me, hear me, and talk to me. That's howcome I can talk to you like this."  She examined him cautiously, the way one would examine a small child being given complicated instructions. "Now pay attention," she said earnestly, "this is very important.  You're going to be getting a wave shortly from one of the Reaver ships.  They want to trade."

"What?"  Simon was incredulous.  That was it, he was definitely delusional.

River raised a hand in a gesture uncannily like his own habitual request for pause.  "Please, you've got to trust me on this.  I know what I'm doing.  You'll be getting a wave from one of the Reaver ships asking for a trade.  You have to ask them for the Shepherd in return.  That's the deal."

"The Shepherd? I thought he was dead too."

River let out a breath and muttered a few words that made Simon frown sharply.  "We need knife talk, not this go se," she said to the ceiling.  Then her eyes went wide.  "Ben dan!  Of course!"  She waved her hands at Simon urgently.  "Talk to the knife, it'll understand.  Tell the knife that the deal must be for the Shepherd.  The others are safe now, but the knife is the one who can bring the Shepherd out of the Nexus."

"Uh…" Simon looked at her desperately.  "What knife?"  

She shook her head, impatient with him. "This is no time for playing games, Simon.  Tell the knife what I've told you and it'll know what to do.  The knife will cut through to the heart of the thing.  That's it's purpose here, to show us the third way. Oh, the delightful symmetry!" River said happily, her face lit with revelation.

River's sudden decent into metaphor sent a chill down Simon's spine.  "River, I don't know what you're talking about.  I don't know what you're asking me to do."

"Just have faith that I know what I'm doing, Simon.  You're going to wake up now.  Tell the knife what I told you and let it do the rest.  You'll be helping me.  You'll be helping all of us."

"Sure," he agreed, utterly mystified and more than a little convinced he was crazy.

"Don't forget.  It's very important, Simon. I have to go now."  

She stood up, and he quickly reached out, saying, "No!  River, wait!"  But before he'd even finished she had disappeared as though she had never been.

The door to his room opened, and he was jerked roughly out of sleep.  Zoe stood in the doorway, looking at him with surprise and concern.  She took in his half-asleep appearance, how he searched the room desperately, and relaxed a little.

"You were dreaming," she said, studying him with some sympathy.

Simon's shoulders slumped and he rubbed his face, trying to clear his head and feeling his heartbeat slowing back down to normal.  "Yeah.  How'd you know?"

"You were talkin'.  I heard you shout River's name."

He let out a pent-up breath, "I thought she was here.  She was sitting right there, on the bed.  She told me she was alive."

Zoe looked folded her arms as she lent against the doorframe.  "It's to be expected.  I'd go so far as to say it's even normal."

"There was nothing normal about this."  Simon stared into space, running over what had happened in his mind.  It stood out with unusual clarity, but then nightmares often did.  "She kept telling me she was alive, that I was dreaming and that was how she was able to talk to me.  Said that what we'd all said about her before was true."

Zoe frowned.  "What did we say?"

"That she is psychic," he replied, frowning a little himself as he said it.

When Zoe said nothing, he looked up at her.  Her expression was pained, as though she was keeping herself from saying something unpleasant.  Simon held up one hand to forestall her comment. "I know, I know, I didn't believe it either.  I mean, this is my sister, I know her better than anyone.  But since I got her out of that place, since they did whatever it was they did to her…it's like I've got to learn to know her all over again.  I can tell you what they did, but I don't know why, or how it has affected her.  I can't prove or disprove that she is psychic."  He let out a breath and dropped his head into his hands again.  "But if she is…it sounds delusional, doesn't it?"

"Sounds like it could be, yes," she agreed, and studied him as he sat staring at the floor.  "A lot of us have bad dreams afterwards."

He looked up, holding her gaze for a long moment.  "I know.  It's just that it was so real…"

"They usually are.  Enough to make you doubt your own senses when you wake up, sometimes."

"Uh, Zoe?  Where are you?"

It was Wash's voice over the general ship's com.  She looked up, frowning, and stepped out into the hall.

"I'm with Simon, honey.  What is it?"

"We got a call, an' you ain't gonna believe who it is."

"It's the Reavers," Simon breathed.  Zoe's head jerked around and she fixed him with a stare.

"Who is it?" She asked, loud enough to be heard on the com.

"Reavers," Wash confirmed.  "One of their ships is hailing us.  The Reavers want to talk."

----------------------------------------

Wash, Duvenage, Jayne and Kaylee were already on the bridge by the time Zoe and Simon got up there.  Duvenage was standing next to the Captain's seat, and moved aside to let Zoe sit down next to her husband.  Simon stayed by the door, resting his back against the wall and folding his arms defensively when Jayne gave him a 'what are you doing here?' look.

"What we got?"  Zoe asked.  Wash, who had an earpiece in one ear as he listened to the transmission, switched it to speaker.  The heavily-accented words growled out over the com, sounding as though whoever had been instructed to send the message wasn't happy about it.

"This is the Oktober calling Serenity, Oktober calling Serenity. Your people are alive and unhurt.  We will trade.  Answer on this signal."

There was a pause of a few seconds, then the message was repeated.  Wash looked at Zoe.  "Think it's for real?"

"You tell me," she replied.

"The signal's definitely coming from one of the Orcas.  But I never heard of anybody trading with Reavers, not voluntarily anyway.  They always seemed more like the taking kind."

"Could be a trap," Jayne said nervously. "Tryin' ta lure us out."

"If we answer, can they pinpoint our location?"  Zoe asked Wash.

"Yup.  I can scramble it for a while, but there's nothing to bounce a signal off 'cept Nexus or one of the other vessels.  It'd take them fifteen, maybe twenty minutes to figure our location.  All they gotta do is keep us talkin'."

"Um, excuse me," Simon said cautiously, and was ignored.

"Can we outrun them?"  Zoe asked.

Wash almost laughed, then saw the look on Zoe's face and didn't.  "Orcas?  No, Serenity can't outrun Orcas, not even with Kaylee's little modifications."

Kaylee shook her head in agreement.

"We've got five hours until the Alliance get here, can we outrun them for that long?"  Duvenage asked.

Surprised, Wash glanced at the clock on the control panel to verify the time. "Uh, well, possibly.  If we had a good enough head start.  But twenty minutes isn't good enough, not with their engines." 

Simon held up one hand, "Look, I know it sounds crazy but-"

Duvenage cut across him. "What if we sent out a decoy, one of the shuttles.  Relay the signal through the shuttle's com, then they'll chase that for a while before they figure out that it wasn't the source.  Would that work?"

"It could, for a while.  Until they were close enough to scan it," Wash agreed uneasily, punching some numbers on the consol, "but that'll only give us one shuttle to get the Captain and the others off the Nexus.  It's gorramned risky."

"I don't think they're after us," Simon said loudly.

Everyone turned to look at him, and Zoe said softly, "Simon, this isn't the time to-"

"I know what you're thinking," he told her, holding up a hand.  "Just…I've got to at least say it.  If I don't and things go wrong….  It'll be worse if I don't."

"Quit your ramblin'," Jayne grumbled. "This ain't no time for practisin' your bedside manner, doctor.  More trouble than you're worth, you'n that crazy sister of yours."

"Jayne! Bi zui!"  Zoe snapped, and didn't look at Duvenage. 

"What?" The big man protested, glancing at the security chief, who was watching him with interest.  Too late it occurred to Jayne that Duvenage may not have known Simon and River's relationship.  He tried not to look guilty, but the security chief's stare had an edge on it that made a man's skin twitch.

"Simon's got a stake in this, same as the rest of us," Kaylee said in the loaded silence, her expression fiercely daring Jayne to disagree.  "The Cap'n said we all got a stake in what happens to Serenity.   None of us'll be helpin' the Cap'n if all we can do is fight amongst ourselves.  Least you can do is hear Simon out.  "

Jayne glowered at the floor while Zoe and Wash shared a guilty look.  Duvenage studied Kaylee, smiling a little, before turning to Simon.

"Why do you think they're not after us?" he asked.

Simon, who had been staring at Kaylee, pulled himself together and cleared his throat. "This is going to sound crazy, but I had a dream.  About River."  He paused, eyes flicking to Zoe, "She said that this was going to happen.  That the Reavers would call us and ask to trade."

"Did she say whether the others were still alive?"  Duvenage asked.

Zoe, Wash, Kaylee and Simon stared at him, wide-eyed with surprise.  Jayne made a disgusted sound. "Don't tell me you believe all this fei-hau!  Bunch of gorramed idiots.  Can't you see he's jus' as fong luh as his sister?  Listenin' to him's gonna get us killed!"

"You don't seem surprised," Zoe remarked to Duvenage, folding her arms.  "There somethin' you ain't tellin' us?  Again?"

Duvenage spared her little more than a glance, asking Simon, "Did she say anything about the others?  About what the Reavers are planning?"

Simon tried to remember as much of the dream as he could, Duvenage's instant acceptance causing a sudden and blinding surge of hope that made it difficult to focus.  _Maybe it had been real, maybe she was alive._ "She said that the Shepherd was in danger.  She said that the others were safe now, but that we had to get Book off Nexus 7.  We have to trade for him.  Do you think she really is alive?"

"Did she say what it was that we had to trade?"

Simon shook his head slowly, "I…no, not exactly.  I didn't understand, it didn't make a lot of sense."

"Now ain't that a surprise," Jayne muttered. 

"Jayne," Zoe warned.

"What?  Only crazy people get to say what they think now?"

Duvenage ignored them. "Tell me exactly what she said, word for word," he instructed Simon. 

"She said something about a knife.  That I had to tell the knife."  Simon grimaced and shrugged, looked at Jayne, then Zoe.  "She said that the knife would know what to do.  I told her I didn't understand, but she said she didn't have time to play games.  Do you have any idea what she was talking about?"

Duvenage stared at him without answering, his face utterly expressionless.  Zoe shifted so that she was sitting with both feet planted on the floor, hands on her knees.  "Alright, it's about time you came clean with us," she said to the security chief.  "You've known somethin' about this right from the start, and I've just about had it with the 'need to know' go se.  Seems to me that River is where she is because you kept your mouth shut when you shouldn't have.  Before I make any decisions, I want to know that I'm not making them blind.  You need to tell us what you know."

Duvenage shifted his attention from Simon to Zoe, regarding her equally expressionlessly.  He sighed.  "I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"  Simon demanded.  "My sister's life is at stake!"

"Simon, let me deal with this," Zoe's voice was firm. Simon gritted his teeth and folded his arms, but was silent.  

"Why can't you tell us?"  Zoe asked Duvenage

"Because if I told you what I know about River, about the Reavers and about what I think has been happening here, I'll have to explain why I know, and I can't do that," he replied.  "But I can tell you some things.  I can tell you that I believe Simon's dream was real, that it was River attempting to communicate with us, and that River and your shipmates are alive.  For the moment.  The Reaver's request to trade is genuine too.  I would suggest following River's instructions." 

"What reason do we have to trust you?"  Zoe asked.

"You're alive.  If I'd wanted to double cross you or kill you, there were a thousand ways to do so.  I didn't.  I have other interests, and none of them would be served by your deaths.  In fact, I believe that they would be better served if I helped you."

Even Jayne was regarding Duvenage thoughtfully.  Wash rubbed his chin, saying, "He's got a point.  According to the Reavers' PR, we ought to be dead.  Here's my problem though," and he cocked his head to look at the security chief.  "We only have your word to go on that River is alive, that the others are alive.  Simon – forgive me for saying – isn't exactly in a position to be rational about this right now.  For all we know, the Cap'n and his team were the distraction that made it possible for you to go in and get Xuan's grandson off of that tin can.  Now the Reavers' know we're out here, you're thinking of feeding us to them while you make your escape on Serenity."

Jayne growled and glared at Duvenage, who folded his arms as he replied. "I understand your doubts, but your reasoning isn't logical.  If I truly had no intention of going back for the rest of your crew I would've made some attempt to persuade you to leave, or tried to take over Serenity myself while you were on the Nexus.  I have the men to do it.  But I didn't, and I have no intention of doing so.  Xuan's granddaughter is still on that station.  I must know whether your Captain was able to find her.  I believe that River is the one who will make that possible, but we must work together on this or we will fail.  We have a common enemy.  We should be concentrating on that enemy and not fighting amongst ourselves."

Wash opened his mouth, closed it, thought for a second.  "He's got a point," he conceded.

"Well, they know we're out here," Kaylee said with a shrug.  "They wouldn't be callin' if they didn't.  Won't be long before they find us anyways.  Might as well find out what it is they want an' make some kinda run for it if necessary.  I can see if I can get a little more power out of Serenity's engines, keep us goin' a bit longer."

"I can set up one of the shuttles to relay our message, put it on automatic pilot, draw them off for a bit," Wash said with a shrug.  "That'll give us another half hour maybe.  Could be the Alliance'll get us before the Reavers do."

Simon closed his eyes and leant back against the wall, pain evident in his face as he struggled with the choices that were left to them.  Kaylee started to reach out to him, hesitated, and drew back.  She ducked her head and stepped out of the door, heading towards the engine room. 

"Best I answer the Reavers before they start lookin' for us, try find out what it is that they want," Zoe said. "Bao bei, how fast do you think you can get that shuttle set up?"

"Give me five minutes," Wash answered, turning towards the consol.  

Duvenage cleared his throat, looking oddly uncomfortable. "I think I should be the one contacting the Reavers."  

Zoe looked over her shoulder at him, raising an eyebrow. "I'm in command of this ship until the Cap'n gets back," she told him, "and I'd be hopin' you'd be respectin' that."

"I do," Duvenage said with a nod to her. "My apologies if it appeared otherwise, but I have reason to think it may be important.  Simon said that River told him to speak to the knife, that the knife would know what to do.  When I spoke to her, she said something similar to me."  At Zoe's frown, he pushed on, uncharacteristically reluctant.  "She said that I was a weapon, like her.  She told me that I spoke knife talk.  He cannot have known that, and it's one of the reasons I believed his story. I think that when she told Simon to speak to the knife and that the knife should be the one to make the trade, I think she meant me."  

Wash laughed briefly.  When Zoe looked at him, he shrugged one shoulder.  "I can see what she meant, is all," he said.  

Jayne muttered under his breath and shifted his weight uneasily when Zoe raised an eyebrow at his behavior. "Man makes me edgy," he snapped. Then, defensively, "I can tell stuff about people too, you know.  Don't take no genius to figure he's dangerous."  He glared at Duvenage, "River and knives ain't a good combination." 

Zoe matched Duvenage's stare for several seconds.  "Alright," she said. "We're trustin' you with the rest, suppose it doesn't make a lot of difference who does the talkin'.  But nothin'-" she narrowed her eyes, "nothin' gets agreed without it goes through me first. Priority's got to be with keepin' Serenity and all on her safe, dong ma?  I feel it's too dangerous, there's no deal.  I feel the Reavers' are tryin' somethin', there's no deal. You try somethin', there's no deal.  We jus' about used up our nine lives, ain't gonna risk no more on this thing." 

"Agreed," Duvenage agreed.  "If it looks like the Reavers' are making any move toward Serenity, we pull out immediately.  Is that satisfactory?"

"Good enough," was Zoe's reluctant admission.  She stood up, gestured to the empty chair.  "Take a seat.  Time we found out what the Reavers think a human life is really worth."

--------------------------------------

Nexus 

Something was tickling Mal's nose, and it was annoying enough to drag him from sleep.  Unfortunately, being woken up only brought the complaints of his abused body into sharper focus, made even worse when he tried to move his head to avoid whatever it was that was forcing him awake.  Mal winced, kept his head still, and cautiously opened his eyes.

Somebody was sleeping against him, head beneath his chin, their body's warmth making him realize how chilled and clammy he felt.  It was their hair that was tickling his nose.  Tilting his head back slightly and squinting brought the person's face into focus.  Dark, curling hair, the curve of a cheek, tawny skin – _Inara?_  Mal blinked in surprise, mind casting about in confusion.  How had he ended up here, with her?  He couldn't believe he'd forget something like that, but his mind was strangely sluggish.  Odd, disjointed images kept surfacing.  Had he been dreaming?  He remembered something about the war, a familiar nightmare but now with a few strange twists.  There was someone he knew must have died, but the face was that of an older man, not the boy he'd known in the war. And there was River and another boy, walking the fields of the dead with him hand in hand….  

He shuddered, his arms tightening convulsively around Inara as though to anchor himself back in reality.  But that prompted further memories too explicit to be just dreams, of her pleading with him, of him holding and kissing her.  He could remember the hot surge of lust when she'd pressed her body against his and the strange way the world had seemed to steady just then.  It had felt as though she stood in the center of a whirlwind, and if he let her go he would be sucked back into it. There was still a little of that unsteadiness in him every time he closed his eyes, so Mal resolved not to do that for a while.  He'd just sit here and let things settle.  No harm in letting her sleep some.

Mal looked around the tiny room, crowded with furniture and odd bits of plastic and metal.  They must still be on the Nexus, but he had no idea where, or how much time had gone by.  Were the Reavers still here?  Were the others alive?  He thought about waking Inara and asking her if she knew, but something held him back.  Moments of peace like this were so rare, snatched as they so often were in the middle of chaos and destruction and the threat of imminent death.  Mal had long ago learnt to take these opportunities when he could, storing them up as armor against the madness that followed.  With all that had happened the last couple of days – thinking he'd lost her and discovering how much that had hurt, then finding her again and nearly killing her in the process, now waking to her in his arms with no memory of how that had happened – he needed some time to think.  If he could just make sense of what he felt here and now, then perhaps he could make some sense of what it was that had driven him to risk everything he had on this foolhardy rescue attempt.  

Mal rested his cheek against Inara's hair, careful not to wake her.  He could feel the slow rhythm of her breathing.  A sudden terror at the thought of loosing her again made his heart race, but he fought down the fear, making himself remember that there was no rhyme or reason to this 'verse.  Everything in it was fragile and changeable, and no amount of pleading to gods or saints or powers that be was going to make a blind bit of difference.  All he had was here and now, he must content with that.  Bizarrely enough, considering all that had happened and could yet happen, he was.  Mal examined that thought, turning it around in his mind as carefully as he would a rare and fragile jewel, and let out a long, slow breath.  There was no need to borrow trouble, as his mother would have said.  He smiled a little wistfully, and settled down to wait.  

Glossary 

Chinese:

Baichi – idiot

liou coe shway duh biao-tze huh hoe-tze fuh ur-tze - son of a drooling whore and a monkey

xi xi ni – thank you

ben dan – you idiot

Bi zui! - Shut up!

fei-hau – garbage

fong luh - crazy


	11. Chapter 11

Author's note:  This one was damned hard for a number of reasons.  I've put it up without reviewing the last couple of pages because I felt I'd left it far too long anyway.  So here it is, horrendously late, and I hope it all hangs together. Things Fall Apart – Chapter 11 

"No!  The preacher is mine!"  The Reaver leader shouted, rounding on River.  "You said they'd want the girl!  Do they think we're playing games here?  Ek sal vir hulle wys wat dink ek van hulle spieletjies!"  

He turned and strode away down the aisle of the theatre, heading for the door where the Reaver who had brought the news of Serenity's demands waited uneasily. The Reavers guarding the theatre muttered amongst themselves, unsettled by the sudden disagreement.  The cause of it lay flat on his back on the stage, out cold. 

The prophet was slumped in his chair, pale with exhaustion. "We haven't time to waste on your vendetta," he snapped at the Reaver leader's retreating back.  "The Alliance are little more than four hours away, and we must leave soon.  We need this last subject.  Without him, none of this means anything."

The Reaver leader stopped and half turned, muscles rippling along his arms as he clenched his fists.  "I have waited years for this chance.  Years!  I will take my revenge for what was done to me and my men. I will have his hide!"

"He has repented," River said in a thin voice, staring absently at the floor.  "He chose a different path."

"By the time I am through with him he will have repented a whole lot more," the Reaver leader growled.  "I'll gut him before he leaves this station, and I'll have that girl flayed for this! They will take what we offer them or they will take nothing!"

"That will leave our people exactly where they were before, lost and confused and bickering amongst themselves while the Alliance drive us further and further out into the black," the prophet retorted.  "The only way we are going to stay one step ahead of our enemy is if we take every advantage we can get!  Knowledge is our power in this war, Kaptein.  We cannot match them in numbers or in weapons, but if we know where we are going while they are blundering about in the woods, then our people may have a chance of living through this.  Sheep know no better than to trust the shepherd, and they will pay the price for their ignorance.  We are not sheep, Kaptein, but if you keep this knowledge from us we might as well be." 

"The falcon cannot hear the falconer," River murmured. "We left a trail of breadcrumbs through the wood, but the birds have pecked it all up.  There's no going back now," she sighed.

The Reaver leader spun around and almost ran back down the aisle, jumping up on stage to stand over the prophet, jabbing one finger towards the unconscious man on the floor besides the wheelchair.  "This man sent me and my men out to die to save his career," he hissed.  "We trusted him, and he treated us like beasts.  We believed in him and in the mission.  It was all lies."  He paused, jaw working as he stared at the still body of the Shepherd.  "He betrayed us.  Everything I had ever believed about myself, what I did, why I did it, was a lie, and he knew it.  None of it meant _anything_ to him!"

The prophet regarded the man towering above him with shadowed eyes, his face made gaunt by exhaustion.  "What he did was reveal to you the truth behind the lie you had been living," he said quietly.  "It was no more than what was done to me, or her," he gestured to River, "or to any of our tribesmen.  We have all had the vale removed from our eyes, and now we gaze upon the truth.  That is no easy thing.  We have all had to suffer for this freedom.  But you may take some consolation from the knowledge that his loss will bring us even greater gain.  Besides, he is the service of the Great Betrayer.  In time, he too will be betrayed.  It is inevitable."

The Reaver leader's eyes narrowed.  "The souls of my men demand vengeance."

"And they will have it," the frail young man said in a voice suddenly much stronger than he looked, carrying beyond the stage.  "They will have their vengeance upon the Alliance and its minions a thousand fold for the crimes committed against them.  Their ancestors will be well pleased with the souls taken in their memory, in the victory of those who fight the Great Betrayer."  He struggled to sit forward, a fierce light in his eyes.  "There is no honour in dying like sheep, Kaptein.  If you want your revenge, then _live_!  Live when they would have you dead.  Use your head when they expect you to use your heart.  Have knowledge when they have none.  Make the exchange.  Give them what they want so that we can take what we need."

There was a profound silence.  Then River suddenly looked up, cocking her head as though she had heard something.  She drew in a quick breath and turned to the prophet with wide eyes, saying urgently, "The beast is coming!  The birds are calling, can you not hear them?  They wheel above it like rooks on a hawk.  We haven't much time." 

"Your tribesmen are waiting for your lead," the prophet murmured.  The Reaver leader was still glaring at the Shepherd, jaw set mutinously.  

"Hulle't geweet," he snarled, and turned the glare on River.  "How?  How did they know?"

River blinked and looked confused. "Birds chatter in the wood, it's the silence you ought to worry about.  They ate all the breadcrumbs and now I can't find the path.  If you do not know where you are going, any road will take you there."  She smiled slightly.  "My mother used to say that."

The Reaver leader bared his teeth briefly in annoyance, although he watched her warily.  "She chatters like the birds she talks about, all noise and no sense."

"The drugs and the memories haunt her," the prophet said.  "I only hope she can stay focused long enough."

The tall Reaver sighed briefly.  "Alright, ons het so ver gekom.  But this had better be worth it, prophet."

---------------------------------------------------------

Shepherd Book woke to the unpleasant sensation of being carried flat on his back at some speed.  He tried to crack open an eye, but the ceiling rushing by over his head only made him feel more nauseous.  The brief glimpse he'd had of his surroundings assured him that he was still on the Nexus, and that those carrying him were Reavers.  He couldn't decide whether to curse or thank the Lord he was still alive.

The motion of travel stopped, and he heard the siren of an airlock door sound.  Curiosity overcame good sense and he lifted his head to see where they were.  Large letters above the door indicated that this was the entrance to the BC airlock, upper deck.  The airlock above the one that he and Mal and the rest of their group had entered.  The door opened, and he was forced to lay his head back down or throw up.  He could hear feet running past on either side of the stretcher bearers going into the airlock, no doubt securing it.  Then they were moving again.

The Shepherd could think of no reason for this journey.  That he would get off this station alive was a hope he had left behind many hours ago.  He had expected to wake up dangling from a balcony, with the Reaver leader's grinning face watching over his slow torture and death.  But the leader did not even appear to be among the Reavers carrying him.  They had stopped inside the airlock now, and the Shepherd's eyes opened wide when he hear a familiar voice.

"Where's the preacher?  I ain't movin' till I see him."

"Jayne?" The Shepherd asked incredulously.

The Reavers carrying the stretcher moved a few paces forward until they were in front of the emergency hatch, and in the glare of the lights the Shepherd could just about make out the bulky figure of the big mercenary, aiming his trusty Vera into the airlock from what looked like one of the shuttles.

"What the hell are you doing here?"  Book asked.

Jayne's eyes settled on him briefly, then resumed their nervous watch on the Reavers.  "Be careful there preacher, you're forgetin' your cover.  Well, send him on over," he said impatiently to the Reavers.

"Are you the commander?" One of the men holding the stretcher asked in heavily accented English.  "The dominee does not leave till he's on board."

"I'm here," said another voice from behind Jayne, and Duvenage's face appeared at the hatch.  He took in the scene at a glance.  "I'll come down."

"I'd wait till we got the preacher on the shuttle," Jayne cautioned.

"This hatch is only big enough for one man.  Someone has to go first."  Duvenage replied calmly.  

He stepped through and took the rungs of the ladder slowly, stepping onto the airlock floor and holding his hands clear of his body.

"You," Book said.  "I should've known."

Duvenage spared him a look. "Yes," he agreed, "you should have."  Then he addressed the Reavers.  "I'm the one you want."

"You're the commander?"  The Reaver who had spoken before sounded doubtful. He looked the slightly built Duvenage up and down.

"I'm the one responsible for evacuating the wounded Alliance soldiers, yes."

The Reaver snorted.  "Geen wonder."  At a gesture from him, the Shepherd found himself dumped roughly on the floor.  "Op jou bene," the Reaver told him.  Book understood the sentiment if not the words.  Struggling with nausea, he sat up.

"Are you alright?"  Duvenage asked him quietly.  "Do you need help?"

Book managed to get to his knees.  "I'm alive, that is enough of a miracle for me," he replied.  When he tried to stand up, he staggered, and Duvenage quickly caught hold of his arm.

"You're wounded," Duvenage commented, taking in the now roughly bandaged gash on the Shepherd's forearm.  

Squinting in the glare of the emergency hatch's lights, Book grimaced.  "It could have been worse."  He held Duvenage's stare.  "Do you know why you are here?"

The other man's face was expressionless.  "I have an idea, yes.  The doctor's sister.  She has something to do with this, doesn't she?"

The Shepherd frowned.  He had not expected Duvenage to know that much. "You are good," he said grudgingly.  "She's trying to keep us alive.  So far, she has succeeded."  He looked grim as he searched Duvenage's face.  "You can change that.  I know you already know what you are willing to die for, and nothing I say can change that now.  But these people are like family to me.  I would consider it a very great favor if they made it off this station alive."

There was a brief silence.  The Reavers fidgeted.  When Duvenage spoke, it was as though he hadn't heard the preacher.  "We brought a medic with us.  Can you get up the ladder?"

"I think so," the Shepherd sighed, and grasped a rung with his good hand.  He gave Duvenage one last look.  "At least I can take some consolation from knowing that shortly you're going to feel as wonderful as I do right now."

A flicker of what could have been amusement came and went on Duvenage's face. Then he turned back towards the Reavers.  Before Jayne had closed the hatch door after the Shepherd, the Reavers had left the airlock, and Duvenage with them.

-------------------------------------------------------------

Inara woke suddenly, drawing in a quick breath and raising her head so quickly she nearly hit it on Mal's jaw.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he quickly loosened his hold on her as she pulled back, "Ni mei shi ba?"

She blinked a few times, frowning intently, and looked around the room.  He saw realization creep across her face, and her shoulders slumped a little.  Then she turned and stared at him with an intensity that made him distinctly uncomfortable.  He really hoped she couldn't tell what he was thinking right now, because seeing her half asleep like this had made his mind go all sorts of places he was too embarrassed to follow. 

"Mal?" She asked.

"Uh, yeah?"

"Do you know where you are?"

Now he frowned.  Had he missed something?  Were they no longer on the station?  He couldn't have been that out of it, could he?  "We're on Nexus, aren't we?"

A look of intense relief crossed her face, "Oh, thank God."

Her reaction made no sense to Mal.  "Last time I checked, that wasn't a good thing."

"No," she smiled, shaking her head and still studying him with that strange intensity.  "No, it isn't a good thing.  But it's an improvement."

"On what?" he asked in disbelief.

"On where you were."  She fell silent, her wide, expressive eyes dark and sorrowful.

"I'm not understanding you, Inara."  If it hadn't been for her expression, he would have been getting annoyed by all this double speak.  "What happened?  I woke up in this room with you, no idea how I got here, with one mother of a hangover I don't remember gettin'.  Last thing I do remember was bein' in that hall with River and the cripple boy.  Somethin' went on in the middle, and I'd like to know what it was."

There was a quick flash of pain in Inara's eyes, and she looked down.  It was then that she realized the position they were in.  Mal still had one arm around her, something he'd been hoping she wouldn't notice for a while, and it wasn't hard to see that they'd been a lot closer a short time ago.  She flicked a surprised glance up at him and pulled back further, slipping out of his hold.  He let her go, feeling it somewhere in his gut as he did so but knowing there was no point in trying to stop her.  

Inara struggled to straighten the remnants of the gown she was wearing, which by now was revealing rather more than she would have liked and enough for Mal's mind to suddenly head southwards again.  Slamming a lid on that thought in case she saw it in his face, he prompted again, "Inara, tell me what happened?"  Then a rather horrifying thought occurred to him.  Perhaps her uncharacteristic discomfort had something to do with him.  "Oh no.  I didn't…I mean, I couldn't have-" She looked up at him, confused.  He struggled for the words to explain.  "I have these memories.  They're not very clear, but I think I remember kissing you.  And then I woke up and we were-" he searched desperately for a word that didn't sound too suggestive, "together, only I can't remember how that happened.  Did we…did I do something to compromise our business relationship?"

Inara's eyes went wide and that quick, wry smile he knew so well flashed.  She shook her head, "No Mal, you didn't.  You behaved very well, considering."

"Considerin' what?" he asked doubtfully.

Her expression sobered, and she studied him again. "What do you remember after seeing River in the theatre?"

"It's all a blur. There are things, but they don't make any sense."  As he thought about it, the images rose in his mind's eye. Many of them were familiar, scenes he knew more intimately than he cared to admit.  He looked away from Inara, frowning.  "It's like a dream," he murmured.

"A nightmare," she corrected.  "And not one you could wake up from either."

"Shenme?" he asked, confused and rapidly loosing the good feeling he'd had only moments before.

"They drugged you and forced you to relive your memories of the war.  Unfortunately, River couldn't bring you back.  You started to react as though what you were seeing was real, and you became violent.  River panicked and called me."

Mal's face was incredulous.  "What?" he said again.

Inara's eyes snapped with anger at the memory. "I don't know why they did it or what drug they used, but it induced hallucinations.  You thought you were back in the war.  When River couldn't bring you out of it and the Reavers were having trouble controlling you, they threatened to kill you.  River had them call me instead.  She thought I might have better luck than she had."

Mal stared at her open-mouthed.  He wouldn't have believed her if it hadn't been for the fact that so many strange bits of memory kept surfacing that could have no other possible explanation.  Such as the image of River and the cripple boy – who was suddenly able to walk – standing beside him in the middle of Serenity Valley.  And Inara's voice pleading with him while he watched a sniper take out a fifteen year old boy driven mad by fear, saying over and over again that it wasn't real.  

"Mal?" Inara's worried voice broke in on dark thoughts.  He blinked and looked at her, unaware of how grim his expression had become.  She studied him warily, and asked, "Are you sure you are all right?  You were pretty out of it for a time there."

"Sure," he said.  "Got pumped full of drugs that made me relive the worst days of my life, practically got me killed, still haven't a gorramned clue why we're here or if we're goin' to get out of this alive.  Xie xie, I'm just fine."

Inara's eyes narrowed. "Oh, you're definitely feeling a lot better," she said dryly.

Anger prompted an adrenaline rush, and Mal couldn't sit still any more.  He stood up quickly, and then had to stop and lean a hand against the wall as the room settled.  Inara was on her feet, poised to grab for him in a way that suggested this was something she had done before.

"Drugged," Mal said in disgust, swallowing against nausea and studying the tremors in his hands. "Thanks for talking me down.  Sounds as though you saved my life."

"Only fair, considering you saved mine," Inara replied with a slight smile.  "Just take it slowly please, you're no lightweight."

He almost smiled, but he was still so angry it made his gut clench.  "None of this makes sense," he muttered, taking a few practice steps towards the door. "How long have we been here?"

She shrugged.  "I'm not sure how long I was asleep."

"Do you know whether the others are alright?"

"The Shepherd and Wei-Lan were still with the rest of the captives when I was taken."

"What about River?"

Inara frowned. "What about her?  
"Do we know what she's doing here?  What this is all about?"

She shook her head slowly.  "No. I couldn't understand a lot of what she said.  But I got the impression that you were not the only one."

Mal eyed the door, wondering how many Reavers were on the other side.  "The only what?"

"Candidate for the drug."

Mal glanced over his shoulder at her and grimaced.  "You mean some other poor bastard is feeling as wonderful as I do right now?  I tell you, when we get out of this, me an' that little tchen wah are going to have a serious talk about settin' some boundaries."

Without warning, he reached out and opened the door.  Inara made a half-strangled sound, and Mal quickly raised his hands as three gun barrels pointed his way, a series of ratcheting noises making it clear that they were ready for use.  

"Just checkin' you guys hadn't gone to sleep out there," Mal said with a grin. Stony silence greeted him.  He shrugged.  "Fine, sorry, won't do it again.  Someone couldn't bring us some water could they?  Been in here a while an' all."

The door slammed in his face. 

"Well, it was worth a shot," Mal turned back and studied Inara's pale-faced, wide-eyed look of horror.  "Reavers ain't got much of a sense of humor now, do they?"  He commented.

It was the first time he'd heard her use that particular word.  Perhaps she had learned something during her tenure on board Firefly after all.

-------------------------------------------------

"Interesting," Duvenage commented, looking around him.

River watched the knife warily, holding on to the prophet's hand.  She was feeling sick.  She'd had to take another dose of the drug because of the delay, and she didn't think that she should have.  Not that there'd been much choice, of course.  The prophet was looking marginally better than she was, but then he didn't have to do all the work.  He was just along for the ride.  That was good, because River couldn't have made sense of what she was seeing anyway.  

They were in what looked like a garden, although it was a strange one.  There were tall hedges on all sides, so high that nothing could be seen beyond them.  The three of them – the knife, River, and the prophet – stood on the edge of a wide expanse of lawn, in the center of which was a small temple.  Or it had seemed small.  River realized when she looked again that the temple itself was huge, a rambling structure across several levels, but perspective wasn't working as it should here and it appeared to be closer than it actually was.

"What is that?" She asked.

"The House Madrasse," Duvenage told her.  "You may know it as the Whore's Temple.  It is situated on Sinon.  A beautiful place."

River frowned.  "Inara," she murmured.

"What are those?"  The prophet asked, pointing to what looked like gaps in the hedge that surrounded them.

"I believe that they are ways into the maze," Duvenage said, studying the nearest intently.  "Or perhaps they are ways out.  It would depend whether we are inside or outside, I'd imagine."

"But why are there three of them?" the prophet asked.  "I thought that there was only one way into or out of a maze."

Duvenage frowned just a little and studied the young man thoughtfully.  "There is never only one way.  There is always a choice.  You just have to recognize it for what it is."

The prophet fidgeted.  "But I don't understand," he said irritably, and glared at River.  "You said there would be a third way, a middle path.  How am I supposed to know which one it is?"

River looked at him with bruised eyes, struggling to bring enough of her mind together to deal with this problem.  "It'll be the path you haven't taken."

"Which one is that?"  The prophet demanded, staring at the entrance to the nearest.

"You don't know where you've been?" Duvenage asked. "How do you expect to know where you are if you do not know where you have been?"

"Enough!" The prophet snapped.  "You were supposed to show me the way out.  River said that you would know the way.  Do you?"

Utterly unconcerned with the prophet's temper, Duvenage started to walk slowly across the lawn, hands held lightly behind his back, studying the hedge with some interest.  Sighing in annoyance, the prophet tugged on River's hand and followed after him. 

"Well, do you?" he demanded.

Duvenage looked up towards the cloudless sky above them and smiled.  He glanced at River.  "Is this your vision?"  He asked.

"Shenme?" she asked, dazed.

"This place, is it how you see me?  I have to admit it is not how I would have described my psyche, but then it is a little difficult to have perspective on one's own idiosyncrasies.  It is somewhat more…organic than I would have thought."

River eyed him warily. "We all come from the earth," she said. Knives had to be treated with caution, even ones apparently sheathed. "It is ordered," she added by way of appeasement. 

"That it is," Duvenage agreed. "And quite peaceful.  I didn't expect that."

"You are wasting time!" The prophet shouted, making River flinch.  Duvenage stopped, eyed the younger man with some regret, and sighed.  "Yes, I suppose we are.  You must forgive me, it is just that such an opportunity has not been presented to me before and likely won't be again.  I am utterly intrigued by what it is that you are both capable of.  It has made me forgetful of our purpose here."  He gestured towards the nearest entrance.  "Do you see down that path?"

The prophet shook his head, "No, I don't…oh…."  As he stared, the gap in the hedge widened, and he looked down onto a valley beneath a grey sky.  Constant shelling had churned the ground into soup, and there were other things sticking out of the mud that didn't bare closer examination.  "Yes, I know that way," he said shortly.  "I have no intention of taking that path."

Duvenage began walking again, following the line of the hedge.  River squinted up at the sky and was dragged along by the prophet.  At the next gap, Duvenage turned and looked at the prophet expectantly.  The prophet stared, and saw through the gap into a churning darkness.  He shook his head.  "That is where we have been.  There is nothing left that way."

The prophet followed after Duvenage again, tugging at River's hand and glancing irritably back at her.  She was staring fixedly at the sky.  He followed her gaze and saw black dots swirling high above them, centered somewhere over the border of the hedge.

"Heralds," River murmured.

They were at the entrance of the third path.  River stared at it, her expression twisting in fear.  The prophet could see a road leading away into the sunlight, wide and straight.  Fields stretched away on either side, corn waving golden and lazy in the breeze.  In the distance he could just about make out the towers of a city. He frowned, and looked at River in confusion.  Her eyes had widened in horror, and he felt her hand close hard on his.  When he looked back, he saw the image of the city shiver.  Buildings shifted, twisted, and something raised its head off its paws and stared back at him.  The beast rose, and the earth shuddered.

"It's coming!"  River screamed.  "Look!"  She pointed skywards, and the whirling black dots resolved themselves into a wheeling flock of birds.  Their cries sounded shrill and terrified in the clear, still air.  Alarmed, the prophet looked back at the gap in the hedge.  Where the city had been were clouds of swirling smoke and dust, and in them something moved.  The clouds of smoke billowed, racing down the road towards them, and the thing that stalked within it voiced a roar like a landslide.  The birds shrieked, their wings buffeting the air above their heads like the rush of wind before a storm.  The prophet staggered back, raising a hand to shield his face.

"What is this?" he shouted, holding on to River, who was by now almost hysterical with fear.

"Another path," Duvenage commented, apparently unmoved by the theatrics.

"I can't take that one!"  The prophet looked around frantically, and saw another gap in the hedge.  He frowned and straightened up, ignoring the wheeling birds, turning slowly as he examined the hedge.  "Wait, there's a fourth path.  Why didn't I see that one before?"

Duvenage frowned a little, as though slightly confused. "Because you were already on it," he told him.

The prophet blinked.  "What?"

"There always were four paths.  When you looked before, you were looking back from the beginning of that path.  From there you could see the other three, but not the one you already stood upon."

The prophet stared open-mouthed at Duvenage.  "You mean…all this time the path had already been chosen?  None of this was necessary?"

Duvenage raised an eyebrow.  "Oh no, I wouldn't say that.  It was very necessary if you believe that one path is much like another if you have no understanding of where you are going.  You had already chosen to look for another way, something different from these three roads.  The act of looking in itself created a fourth way."

The prophet shook his head slowly, "But where does it go?  I can see the end in all the others.  What is at the end of that one?"

Duvenage looked at the gap in the hedge thoughtfully.  "I have no idea, but I'd certainly be interested in your interpretation.  Shall we take a look?"

River staggered, half dragged and half carried by the prophet towards the fourth gap in the hedge.  She could hear the knife and the prophet talking but could make no sense of their words.  The weight of the beast stalking towards them shook the earth, and its impending arrival scattered any coherent thought. The wheeling birds screamed and beat at the air, and River whimpered, arms over her head, terrified.  

"We must go!"  She pleaded, tugging at the prophet's clothes.  "It's coming!  Please, we have to go!"

"Alright River, we'll go now," the prophet assured her.  There was something different in his voice, a certainty that hadn't been there before.  "Come with me, I know the way out of here." 

The knife followed them out of that place, and River was only glad that it was between them and the beast.

--------------------------------------------------------

"Tian Yeshoo, I don't believe it.  They're leaving!"

"What?"  Zoe covered the few feet across the bridge to where Wash sat, staring at the consol in wide-eyed disbelief.

"The Reavers are leaving!  That's the second one gone now!"

The Shepherd, wrapped in a blanket and swaying on his feet, looked out of the window.  "The Alliance," he murmured.  "Bet on it."

Wash flicked switches and dials, "Where are you, you bastards?  Come out, come out, wherever you are..."

"Any word from the Cap'n?"  Jayne asked.  "Think he's dead?"

"No," Zoe snapped, and flicked the com switch.  "Kaylee, get the shuttle ready.  We've got to get the Cap'n off Nexus now, Alliance are on their way."

"On it!" Came the jubilant reply.  

Simon came hurtling up the ramp onto the bridge, "What's happening?  Are they alright?"

"Reavers are leavin'," Zoe said shortly.  "Don't know anythin' else right now."  She nodded to Jayne.  "Gonna need you an' that field medic.  Get one of Duvenage's men to come along, we may need the muscle."

She ducked out of the bridge and headed for the shuttle at a run.

Glossary:

Ek sal vir hulle wys wat dink ek van hulle spieletjies!  -  I'll show them what I think of their games!

ons het so ver gekom – we've come this far

Ni mei shi ba? – Are you all right?

Shenme? – What?


	12. Chapter 12

**Things Fall Apart – Chapter 12**

**Author's note:  **The guilt about being so late with the last chapter is howcome this one is up so soon.  That and the fact that I actually knew where I was going with it, instead of having to figure that out the hard way.  Nearly there now, hope you like it.

There was the sound of booted footsteps coming down the corridor, and then hurried conversation just outside the door.  A few seconds later, several sets of feet walked away.  After that, there was silence.

Inara and Mal looked at each other and back at the door.  The silence stretched.  Mal stood up and studied the door speculatively, wondering if he'd be pushing his luck to try it again.  He almost laughed.  Since when had he started thinking of the fact that the 'verse hadn't managed to kill him yet as luck?

"Mal, do you think it's wise?" Inara asked softly.

Without looking at her, he shook his head slowly and said, "Nope.  But I ain't in the habit of lettin' that get in the way." 

The corridor was empty.  Both Mal and Inara stared out the doorway for several seconds in stunned silence.  Mal quickly stuck his head out, ready to snatch it back in again if anything moved.  Nothing did.

"Well I'll be…." He murmured.  He gestured to Inara.  "I think they've gone."

"Are you sure?" She asked, taking a few steps over to the doorway to have a look herself.  

"Only one way to be."  Mal stepped out into the corridor, and when he didn't die he looked both ways and frowned in confusion. "Which way is it to the airlock?"

Inara followed him, poised to bolt at the slightest sign of movement.  "That way leads back to the theatre.  We can get back to the banquet hall from there."

They looked at each other, both silently acknowledging the likelihood of getting even that far.  Mal wanted to say something comforting, but he was suddenly and uncharacteristically afraid to tempt fate.

"Well, we ain't dead yet," he said, knowing it sounded stupid. 

"Not for want of trying," she replied wryly.  He half smiled and held out one hand.  She took it with a quick smile of gratitude, which made him feel less stupid.  

"Come on," he said, and led the way down the corridor.

The corridor was deserted, their footsteps the loudest thing to be heard in a silence that begged to be broken. They reached the theatre doors without incident.  Very cautiously, Mal eased the door open enough to take a quick look inside.  He lent back against the wall and frowned.

"Shenme shi?"  Inara whispered.

"There's no-one there," he said to her, staring into the middle distance and frowning fiercely.  "Zhe shi shenmo lan dongxi?"

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Ever heard the one about rats an' a sinkin' ship?  Somethin's up."

Before they could speculate on what, there was a sound from inside the theatre.  Inara and Mal froze.  The sound came again, a high-pitched, sobbing cry that they both instantly recognized.

"River," Mal said, and went through the door with Inara a second behind him.

She was half way up the aisle, sitting on the floor as though her legs had given out, rocking and crying.  Mal swore under his breath and ran down the aisle, but before he could reach her a figure rose from the floor further down towards the stage.  Inara shouted a warning, and Mal skidded to a halt and reached for a gun that wasn't there.  He swore again and dove to his right between the rows of seats, praying that Inara had taken cover.  Panting, he lay on the floor between the seats, trying to remember where the other exits were and bracing himself for gunfire.

"It's alright, it's me, Duvenage."

Mal blinked.  He honestly didn't believe that he'd heard what he'd just heard.  "Diyu, tell me that that was the drugs talkin', 'cause otherwise I swear I'm goin mad," he said.

The voice replied, "You heard right, Captain.  It's safe to come out, the Reavers are gone."

Very cautiously, Mal sat up and peered around the edge of a chair. "What the gorramned hell are you doin' here?"  He demanded.

Duvenage was leaning against a chair as though he was about to fall.  In the dim light of the theatre, Mal thought he saw the man smile.  "Taking a trip," Duvenage said.  

Mal's eyes narrowed as he studied him carefully.  A few seconds later he relaxed and shook his head in confusion. "You're spaced," he said, clambering upright and looking around for Inara.  "Mei guänxi, this man's one of ours.  More'n the Reavers, anyway."

Inara's head appeared around the door, and she stared doubtfully at Duvenage.  "Who is he?"

"Xuan's security chief.  He came with us on Serenity."  He turned back and stared at Duvenage, "You didn't say how it was you got here."

"We made a trade," Duvenage told him, trying to push himself upright and swaying on his feet.  "Me for the Shepherd."

"Shepherd Book is alive?"  Inara asked hopefully, coming through the door again.

"Last I saw he was climbing into one of the shuttles," Duvenage said, closing his eyes and leaning back heavily against the chairs.  "Something he said is making a lot more sense right about now," he muttered darkly.

Mal had reached River, and crouched down beside her. "River, are you okay?"

She was deathly pale and stared blankly through him, eyes bloodshot.  Mal took one of her hands and found it icy cold.  Inara was beside him, and he glanced up at her in concern.  "I don't think she's doin' too well."

Inara dropped to her knees and pressed her fingers beneath River's jaw.  "Her pulse is racing," she said.  "River, what's wrong xin gan?"  River didn't respond.  Inara shot Mal a worried look.  "I think we need to get her to a doctor."

"She took another dose of the drug," Duvenage told them, managing to take a few cautious steps up the aisle. "It may have been too much."

"Simon will know what to do," Inara murmured under her breath, watching Duvenage warily.

Mal nodded.  "Gotta find a way of gettin' in touch with Serenity, tell them to come fetch us," he said, and looked up at Duvenage.  "Did you say that the Reavers have gone?"

Duvenage started to nod, then stopped moving his head and looked sick.  "Left about twenty minutes ago," he said through clenched teeth.

"Why?"  Mal demanded.

The security chief glanced from River to Mal.  "The Alliance are almost here."

Mal looked back at River and sighed.  "Oh, juh jen sh guh kwai luh duh jean jan.  How much time do we have?"

"I don't know," Duvenage replied.  "Less than an hour, maybe only minutes."

River groaned, suddenly leaned forward and threw up.

"Oh, honey," Inara said in sympathy.  River looked up at her, blinking owlishly.

"Simon," she said in a broken voice.  Her eyes closed and she folded to the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut.  Inara gasped and Mal swore, quickly checking for a pulse.

"She's alive," he said in relief.  "River, wake up.  Wake up, xiao mei mei."  He shook her, but she flopped limply in his grasp.  "Gorramnit, we've got to get her back to Serenity.  You got a coms link?"  He demanded of Duvenage.

"No.  But there should be one at the center point."  When Mal looked at him blankly, Duvenage elaborated.  "The point where the spoke from the hub connects to the station wheel is called a center point.  They have a communication's station at each one, to keep track of traffic to and from the hub.  We'll have to go back through the banquet hall to get there," he added without enthusiasm.

"Right," Mal agreed, studying River with concern.  "I'll take her.  Are you alright to walk?" He asked of Duvenage.  

The security chief grimaced.  "I'll have to be."

Mal gathered River up in his arms, feeling the lingering aftereffects of the drug in his protesting muscles.  Inara made sure River was alright before cautiously offering an arm to Duvenage, which he took gratefully.  They made their way out of the theatre into another deserted corridor, moving much more slowly than Mal would have liked, but simply incapable of going any faster.  Duvenage was managing to stay upright, but he had to lean heavily on Inara and seemed to be having some trouble focusing.  Mal had to stop once to put River down and rest, meeting Inara's concerned gaze when he did so.  He gave her a wry smile to reassure her, but he knew that she wasn't fooled.  The thought of what would happen if the Alliance reached them before Serenity did weighed heavily on both their minds.

When they reached the door to the banqueting hall, Mal put River down again, going ahead alone to have a quick look around and make sure that they weren't going to run into any surprises.  His face was grim when he came back, and Inara's mind churned over what it was that she had seen inside that room.  This was where they had left Wai-Lan, and she dreaded both the thought of finding the child – most likely dead – or worse, not finding her.  It took an effort of will to make herself go through the door.

Once inside, they all stopped and looked at the Reaver's handiwork in mute horror.  The room was still garishly lit, making every image stand out with horrid clarity.  The pile of bodies remained in the middle of the floor, and the slowly swinging corpses strung from the balcony railings gave a brief, disconcerting impression of life in their movement.  The stench was enough to make Inara gag.  Despite herself, she found she was searching the hall for a small body.  

"Juedui bu," Mal said softly.  Inara glanced at him and followed his gaze.  At the far end of the hall where they and the other prisoners had been held was a tiny, curled figure.  It was Wai-Lan, her back against the wall, arms wrapped around her legs and face pressed to her knees.  She wasn't moving.

The child's stillness sent a chill down Mal's spine, and if he had been able he would have grabbed hold of Inara and made sure she didn't go near, just in case his worst fears were realized.  But he had his arms full.  Inara murmured something inarticulate under her breath and pushed free of Duvenage to run across the hall.  

"Inara, wait!" Mal shouted after her, but she ignored him.  Swearing, Mal started across the hall, but he hadn't taken three steps before he saw the girl stir and raise her head.  

Wai-Lan stared at Inara running towards her as though she was looking at a ghost.  Inara could see shock and disbelief, and then the little girl's face crumpled and she scrambled up, reaching for Inara as she fell onto her knees and scooped the girl into her arms.  Inara was in tears, rocking Wai-Lan and saying she was sorry for leaving her, begging the child to forgive her.  Wai-Lan was speechless but clung to her with ferocious strength.  It was several seconds before Inara thought to ask her if she was hurt.  Wai-Lan stared back at her with huge eyes and shook her head.

"They took Annabelle," she said in a tiny voice.

"Who?" Inara asked.

"Annabelle.  She held my hand when the Shepherd went away.  They took her with the others.  She told me I mustn't cry, but she was crying."  Wai-Lan took a gasping breath.  "She told me they kill girls that cry."

"Oh mei mei," Inara whispered, and Wai-Lan burst into tears.  Inara gathered her into another embrace and held her as she sobbed.

"Is she hurt?"  Mal asked softly from behind her.  

Inara looked up, her eyes dark with pain and anger. "I don't think so.  Not physically, anyway."

Mal closed his eyes briefly in relief.  Then he studied River with a mixture of confusion and awe.  She lay in his arms like a child, limp and pale.  "River must've had some pretty powerful influence with the Reavers for them to leave the child alone," he remarked.  "Whatever she put me through, I'll forgive for that."

For a moment longer he watched Inara holding Wai-Lan, wondering at the fiercely protective way she did so.  It wasn't the first time he'd seen that look on her face, and it struck him again how much of a contradiction this woman was.  Most of the time she was utterly in control, keeping everyone at arms length with a practiced ease that confounded him.  But when that armor cracked, she would fight anyone and anything – including him – to protect someone she cared about.  As always, he found it baffling to try and reconcile the two aspects and struggled to understand how she did it.  Or why.  

He heard movement behind him and turned quickly.  Duvenage had managed to make his way across the hall and was standing staring at the pile of bodies.  Or more correctly, standing and staring at one of the bodies amongst the pile.  Mal took a closer look and recognized Lessing.  Duvenage's face was as impassive as always, but Mal saw that the man's fists were clenched.  Shifting River a little awkwardly to ease aching muscles, he went over to stand beside him.

"He was killed when they took us captive," Mal explained.  Duvenage said nothing, but looked up and over at the balcony where Ossa's body hung, strung up with chains from the railing.  Mal's jaw clenched at the memory.

"He was killed later," he said briefly.  There was no need to elaborate, the evidence of how he died was clearly visible on the man's body.

"I want my men taken with us," Duvenage said bluntly.

Mal looked at him and frowned.  "It'll slow us down," he said.  

Duvenage turned cold eyes on him. "If that becomes a problem, I will remain here with them."

Mal nodded once, already clear in his mind that if it was possible, he would make sure Duvenage's wish was carried out.  There were debts to repay.

Mal looked back towards Inara and the child.  She was standing up, about to lift the girl into her arms, but Wai-Lan shook her head.

"It's alright," she said, "I can walk.  I want to walk."

Inara brushed the child's hair out of her face and said gently, "It's okay, Wai-Lan, the Reavers are gone.  We don't have to run.  I can carry you if you're too tired."

Doubt and relief flashed in Wai-Lan's eyes, and she glanced around the hall as though to check for herself.  When she looked at the bodies, Mal saw an unusually solemn expression settle on the child's face.  Wai-Lan gripped Inara's hand, still staring at the dead, and said firmly, "I can walk."

"Okay," Inara agreed and looked over at Mal, asking a little desperately.  "Can we go?"

"Yeah," Mal said readily, and to Duvenage, "Soon as you can get us to the centre point."

The security chief nodded and started across the hall towards the main staircase, walking slowly but with a lot more purpose than he had previously.  There was nothing like a dose of reality to clear a man's head, Mal mused, remembering what it had taken to bring him out of his drug-induced nightmares and feeling very glad that it had been a much sweeter experience than Duvenage's.  

They were almost at the top of the staircase, Duvenage stepping onto the landing ahead of the others, when the security chief suddenly froze.  He gestured urgently for Mal and Inara to back up, and flattened himself against the wall.  Mal carefully set River down on the stairs, not for the first time regretting that he'd lost his gun.  

"Stay with her," he whispered to Inara, who nodded and crouched down so that she could hold on to River and keep her from collapsing.  Mal went up onto the landing next to Duvenage, who pointed to the doors – still left propped open by the Reavers – and signaled that he'd seen something.  

Mal thought grimly of their options, which were few and not very good.  If it was Alliance, which was likely, then the best one would be to surrender immediately and hope that some scared, trigger-happy youngster didn't shoot them before they could get the words out.  How they were going to explain how they'd survived when there were bodies strewn all over the banqueting hall he had no idea.  He doubted even Duvenage's Governor boss or Inara's Companion status would be sufficient to keep them from being asked some very painful questions, probably from the other side of prison bars.  Mal personally doubted he'd be seeing the light of day for a good long while, if ever.  Browncoats were under suspicion by default.  And as for River….

Now Mal could hear something.  It sounded like footsteps, the scrape of clothing against the wall on the other side of the door, the faint rattle of a weapon being shifted.  He and Duvenage exchanged a glance before turning their attention back to the open doorway.  The business end of a gun appeared through it, and Mal heard a voice say softly, "I'm at the door, goin' through."  

Mal reacted without thought, grabbing Duvenage's arm to restrain him, and said in disbelief, "Zoe?"

He heard a gasp, and then there she was, through the door and staring at him with a look that mirrored his own. 

"Sir?  Diyu…," she blinked rapidly, and said in a numb voice, "You're alive."

He laughed and stepped forward to grab her in a bone-crushing embrace.  "I really thought I wasn't goin' to see you again," he said.  She didn't reply, but he could feel from the strength of her grip that she had believed the same thing. 

"Ni ta ma de!"  A voice said from the other side of the door, and Jayne was staring at him with wide eyes.  "Cap'n?  That you?"

"Yeah, it's me, an' there's a few more with me," he said, grinning like an idiot, happy even to see the big oaf of a mercenary.

Zoe suddenly pulled back and said urgently, "Alliance are comin', sir.  We gotta get outa here."

"I know," Mal answered.  "We got wounded.  Who else you got with you?"

"We got a medic and one of Xuan's men, an' there's another two on the shuttle.  Who's been hurt?"  She looked over his shoulder.

Mal stepped back so that she could see down the staircase.  "River's not doin' too well."

Duvenage, looking a lot paler after the brief moment of tension, said, "And my men.  I'd like to take my men back with us on the shuttle."

"Inara!"  Zoe said, a smile suddenly lighting up her face.  She went down the stairs as Inara stood up, giving her an equally delighted smile.  The two women embraced, Inara saying, "Oh, it is so good to see you again."

"Likewise," Zoe told her as they parted again.  "You are alright?  You're not hurt?"

"I'm fine," Inara reassured her, "thanks to you all.  You risked your lives to get here, and I can never thank you enough for that."  She glanced up at Mal as she spoke.

"Don't," Zoe said firmly.  "You are a friend, Inara, none of us be keepin' score.  And who's this?" She asked, smiling down at Wai-Lan, who was looking up at her with awe.

"This is Wai-Lan, Lieutenant Xuan's sister," Inara explained.  "I understand that the Lieutenant has already been taken to Serenity."

"He has, and he is safe and well," Zoe told Wai-Lan, who smiled tentatively, holding tightly onto Inara's hand.  Zoe then crouched down next to River and looked her over. "She had a bad reaction to the drug?" she asked.

Mal looked surprised, "How'd you know about that?"  He asked.

"Preacher told us what happened after you were caught," Zoe said briefly, and looked up at Duvenage, her expression rapidly sobering.  "Where are your men?"

It took them a little while to work out how to break the chains that held up Ossa's body, but they did it.  Before long, they were making their way back through the passageways of Nexus Section A with Mal carrying River and Zoe, Jayne and Xuan's men carrying the two bodies between them.  The shuttle was crowded, but no one was disposed to complain about it.  When they were all on board, Zoe put a call through to Serenity.

"Wash, we're on our way.  How far away are the Alliance cruisers?"

"Their long-range scanners'll have us in ten minutes or so," Wash's voice came back over the com.  "Who's with you?  D'you get the Cap'n?"

"Yeah, she got me," Mal said, leaning over Zoe's shoulder.  "How's Serenity?"

"Gorramnit, an' there I was thinkin' I could sell this heap of junk and buy me an' Zoe a little farm somewhere nice an' peaceful, raise a few chickens, maybe some geese."  Wash quipped.  "Good to hear your voice, Cap'n," he added.  "You okay?"

"I'm not dead," Mal told him.  "We gonna be able to outrun the Alliance?"

"Not this time," Wash replied sounding a lot more serious.  "Best we can do is try an' fly innocent and hope they don't board us.  We may get lucky."

"I been thinking we've about worn our luck out on this one, sir," Zoe said quietly.  

"An' then some," Mal agreed.

They made the rest of the trip back to Serenity in silence.  A few minutes from docking, Wash told them that he'd been hailed by one of the Alliance cruisers and told to keep Serenity where she was or be shot down.  When they opened the shuttle door, Simon was standing in the corridor outside.  His gaze flew to River, lying senseless in Mal's arms.

"What happened?" he demanded, "How long has she been like this?"

"Mind getting' out of the way?" Mal asked impatiently.  Simon backed up enough to let Mal through.

"Give her to me," he said as soon as Mal had straightened up.

"Glad to," Mal told him, and handed River to her brother.  As Simon disappeared down the catwalk, he shook his head and said, "Good to see you too," to the man's back.

"He'll remember to thank you later," Zoe said as she stepped out, carrying Lessing's feet.

"Not if the Alliance board us he won't," Mal muttered grimly, and headed up towards the bridge.  

Inara stepped out of the shuttle and watched him go.  She waited until Duvenage came through onto the catwalk, the last one to exit the shuttle.  She still held Wai-Lan's hand, and the child regarded Duvenage solemnly.  

"Can you help?" Inara asked him quietly.   

He looked a little puzzled.  "In what way?"

"Can you keep the Alliance from boarding?"  She asked.  It was a dangerous question.  Duvenage regarded at her for a long moment, and she had the distinct impression he did it to see how much she would fidget.  She didn't, of course.

"What influence do you believe I could have?"  He asked eventually.

Inara noted his lack of surprise that she would ask such a favor from him.  Even having spent such a short time in his company, she believed that there was far more to this man than any of them suspected.  For one thing, he had something similar to her own training in reading people.  The fact that he was so difficult to read himself made that obvious.  Very rarely, she had met men and women like him.  Usually they were Alliance, but she had decided to risk the appeal anyway.  Something about this man suggested to her that there was a human being behind the mask, a distinction she was only able to make having met others of his kind.  And unlike everyone else on Serenity, Inara had some autonomy provided by her standing as a Companion.  Her loyalty to her House first above all else would not be questioned, and if she was wrong about Duvenage, then she could always defend herself by saying that she'd made her appeal out of a sense of gratitude towards those who had saved her life.  Given the circumstances, that was perfectly plausible.

"You are Governor Xuan's most trusted employee," she said in answer to his question.  "He is highly regarded among the Alliance senior staff.  The crew of Serenity were here at his request, and they have saved the lives of his grandchildren.  If you were to suggest it, Governor Xuan could be persuaded to intervene on their behalf."

"It was a business arrangement," Duvenage replied bluntly. "They are being well paid.  The Governor does not need to involve himself any further." 

Inara smiled.  "They walked into a Reavers' den.  Your Governor knows that you could not have found another crew in the 'verse willing to do that, whatever you may have offered to pay them."

He smiled just a little in return.  "The fact is, Companion, that the Captain was looking for any reason he could to persuade his crew to take the risk so that he could rescue you.  If his need happened to coincide with the Governor's, then that is a fortuitous incident.  It certainly places the Governor under no obligation."  

Inara stared at him, momentarily speechless, and in that moment knowing there was nothing more she could say.  She felt a quick stab of doubt.  This man was very, very good.  If she had made a mistake in appealing to him, then she had made a bad one.

"Inara!"

The Companion had only a second's warning before she was practically knocked from her feet and enveloped in a bear hug.  Wai-Lan yelped in surprise, and would have run for it if Inara hadn't been holding on to her hand.

"Kaylee!"  Inara gasped, struggling to breathe.  "Kaylee, careful-"

"Oh, oh, are you hurt?  Did I hurt you?"  Kaylee rattled off, letting go as quickly as she had grabbed hold, her face a picture of worry. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"  

"No, I'm fine, you didn't hurt me.  Just surprised me, and after the last couple of days I've had about enough of surprises," Inara said wryly.

"Oh, I'm sorry!"  Kaylee said, stricken.  "I didn't think.  I'm always doing things without thinkin', it's a really bad habit and I promise I'll stop-"

"Kaylee!"  Inara said, catching hold of the girl's waving hands.  "It's alright, I was only teasing."

"You were?"  Kaylee was astonished, then raised her eyes heavenward and shook her head.  "Of course you were, how silly of me.  But are you alright?  Really?"

Struggling to gather her scattered thoughts, Inara realized that in the middle of all of this, Duvenage had slipped away.  She sighed inwardly, hoping she hadn't just made Serenity's problems any worse, but certain nothing she could do now would make them any better.  She looked back at Kaylee, who was looking at her with such open concern that Inara couldn't help but reassure her.

"I'm really fine, Kaylee.  I need a bath and a change of clothing, and I think Wai-Lan here could do with the same, but other than that we're both fine."

"Well, there's only the shower if you remember, but you can borrow some of my clothes.  Hey there, Wai-Lan," Kaylee turned her infectious smile on the child, who glanced up at Inara to check whether this person was safe before smiling tentatively in return.

"You know what I think would do Wai-Lan the world of good right now?"  Inara said to Kaylee.  "Her brother was one of the soldiers they took off the station, and I think she'd really like to see him."

"I'm sure we can manage that," Kaylee said cheerfully.  "I'm friends with the doctor, you know.  I bet I can persuade him to let you see your brother.  Come on," and she held out a hand to Wai-Lan.  

"Just friends?"  Inara asked Kaylee under her breath as they made their way down the catwalk towards the infirmary.

Kaylee groaned and rolled her eyes.  "Yeah, just friends.  The man's as dumb as a post."

Inara laughed, and felt a sudden, overwhelming relief so profound she was almost in tears.  Kaylee looked at her and her eyes went wide.

"Oh, Inara," she murmured, and quickly took her in another hug.  "We thought we had really lost you this time.  I was so scared."

"Me too," Inara replied, allowing herself to lean on her friend for just a moment.  "Me too."

"But you know what?"  Kaylee said to her gently.

"What?"  Inara asked, sniffing slightly.

"You were right about the shower."

**Glossary:**

Shenme shi? - What's the matter?

Zhe shi shenmo lan dongxi? - What the hell is this?

Mei guänxi – It's okay

Oh, juh jen sh guh kwai luh duh jean jan – Oh, this really is a happy day

Juedui bu - no way

Diyu – hell

Ni ta ma de - motherfucker


	13. Chapter 13

**Things Fall Apart Chapter 13**

**Author's note – **and for those who thought I'd run out of twists for the plot…evil grin.  With luck, the next chapter will be the last.  It's already gone four chapters longer than I thought it would, sucker that I am for character exploration stuff.  Please R&R, I really enjoy hearing what you think of it.

_On board Alliance Cruiser Orion_

General Mengitsu sat in his ready room, scrolling through the hastily compiled reports his staff had submitted in an attempt to explain what had happened at Nexus 7, all of them failing miserably.  The General glanced at the time in the top right of the screen.  Little more than an hour since the Reavers had deserted the station, leaving nothing but vapor trails, wreckage and one small, unarmed, and apparently unharmed Firefly-class freighter behind.

"None of it makes any sense," the General muttered.

"Sir?"

The General glanced up at the Lieutenant Colonel who stood attentively at the other end of the room and let some of his frustration show.

"Have we had a report from the ships we sent after the Reavers yet?  I thought I asked to be updated on the quarter hour."

"Yes sir, we have had reports.  They have found nothing yet, sir."  Lieutenant Colonel Stuart thought for a moment, knowing that the question he needed to ask was going to annoy his superior and mentally bracing himself.  "Sir, do you wish to continue the pursuit?"

"What?"  General Mengitsu asked, staring at the screen again.

"Do you wish to continue the pursuit, sir?  We have a ship following each of the Reaver ship's trails, but they have made little headway, and it leaves us dangerously exposed here.  Should some of the Reaver ships double back-"

"I am aware of the dangers, Lieutenant Colonel," the General interrupted.  "There really is no further need to remind me of them."

"I apologize, sir."

"This is ridiculous!"  The General stood up and took a couple of quick paces away from his chair to stand staring at one of the tasteful murals hung on the walls, currently showing a soothing scene of a lake in the middle of snowcapped mountains.  "What the hell happened here?"

The Lieutenant Colonel decided to take that as a rhetorical question and kept silent.  

There was a soft, low chime and the General turned, saying sharply, "Enter!"

The door slid open to reveal a younger man in uniform.  The Sergeant saluted smartly and said, "Sir, the last of the evacuated soldiers have been taken on board."

"Good," the General said.  "Then we can begin questioning the crew of this Serenity."  He said the name of the Firefly with some distaste.  He didn't know whether it was intended to be ironic, a genuine memorial to that ghastly incident, or the Captain was blithely ignorant of the connotations, but whatever the reason he'd already decided he didn't like the man.  "Have them taken to the interrogation rooms immediately.  I want Governor Xuan's men made available too, you are to inform him as such."

"Sir?" Lieutenant Colonel Stuart said quickly, "The Governor has asked if he may have a word with you urgently."

The General's eyes narrowed.  "I allowed Governor Xuan to accompany us as a personal favor, considering his family circumstances.  That is as far as my favor extends.  I do not have the time to see him now."

"Yes sir, but he said he wished to discuss the matter of the Firefly with you directly."

"And he will, as will the rest of his men and the crew.  But it will be on my time, not his.  By the way, I want the ship's data logs, and I want it thoroughly searched."  The last remark he directed at the Sergeant.

"Yes sir!"

"Dismissed," the General said, and the Sergeant turned smartly on his heal and left.  

Lieutenant Colonel Stuart hesitated, and the General sighed in exasperation.  "What is it?" He demanded.

"Are we arresting the crew of Serenity, sir?"

"Not yet," General Mengitsu said in a quieter tone.  "Not yet.  But something does not feel right about this.  Anyone who survives a Reaver attack either has the luck of the very Devil, or they are the devils themselves.  I want to know which it is.  Dismissed."

---------------------------------------------

_15 minutes later on board Serenity_

"Now wait a gorramned minute!"  Mal said, standing in the middle of the cargo bay, facing about ten armed Alliance troops poised to enter his ship.  "You mean to tell me that we rescued your boys off that piece of fei-oo, risked our lives to get the Governor's family back to him safe and sound, an' you're arrestin' us?"

Behind him, Jayne growled and spat, crossing his arms to keep from going for his gun.  Zoe was frowning, glancing between the troupes and Mal, then back over her shoulder at Wash.

"You are not being arrested," the Sergeant facing them said, flushing with irritation.  "We would like to question you and your crew about what happened on the Nexus 7, that is all."

"An' if we refuse?"  Mal asked.

"I would have to insist," the Sergeant replied grimly.

"So you're arrestin' us," Mal retorted.

"Your cooperation will make this whole process a lot easier," the Sergeant said as though he really could not understand what the problem was.

Mal put his hands on his hips, making several of the Alliance troupes tense.  Mal's eyes narrowed.  They were awfully twitchy for people supposed to be dealing with friends.  

"My crew has been through hell these last couple of days," he said in a quieter tone of voice, hoping to ease the tension a notch or two.  "It'd be no more'n decency to let them get cleaned up a little, maybe get some rest first-"

"There'll be time enough for that later," the Sergeant said shortly.

"I won't have my people treated like criminals," Mal said more firmly.  "Look, there's no need for this.  You're jus' gonna be hearin' the same story from each of us anyways.  Let me answer your questions an' leave my crew out of it."

"We are to question every member of this crew, Captain, including yourself."

On the catwalk above the cargo bay, Duvenage watched the exchange with calm interest.  He turned and slipped silently down one of the passages, unnoticed by anyone below.

"It isn't necessary to question every member of my crew," Mal said through gritted teeth.

"We will decide what is necessary," the Sergeant replied a little pompously. "Do not make the mistake of believing this is a request."

"Mal," Zoe said in a low voice, but he held up one hand to forestall her, saying,

"I'd like to speak to Governor Xuan. Perhaps he can help us come to some agreement."

"The Governor's men are to be questioned too," the Sergeant replied shortly, glancing up at the catwalk where Duvenage had been moments before and frowning to find him gone.  "The Governor has assured us that they will cooperate with our investigation."

"Then question them first," Mal said quickly, "let my people have a couple of hours R an' R before you start interrogatin' them.  This ship don't run by herself, I need my crew.  You got a lot of people to be askin' questions of.  Seems a mite foolish to have us all coolin' our heals while you're workin' your way down the list.  Ain't none of us going nowhere anyways, not with all them Reavers out there.  It may surprise you to know that we were more'n a little pleased to see you."

The Sergeant's eyes narrowed as he regarded Mal.  The Alliance officer instinctively didn't trust him, but he also felt some sympathy for the obviously exhausted, ragged and bloody group of people gathered in the cargo bay of the little freighter.  He saw no reason to hurry the questioning himself – a couple of hours rest could make little difference at this point – but his orders were clear.  He was only glad that Governor Xuan's anger at the way his employees were being treated would be aimed higher than himself.  The Governor was not a good man to have as an enemy, not if you intended to have any sort of career in the Alliance anyway.

"Captain, as I have said, you and your crew are to come with me directly for questioning.  I can make sure that your stay with us is as brief and comfortable as possible, but if you continue to resist-"

"Sergeant, may I have a word?" another voice broke in.  The Sergeant looked around, startled.  A man he had not seen before had appeared on the catwalk, a Shepherd by the looks of him.

"Who are you?" The Sergeant demanded, taking in the fact that the man was obviously wounded – one arm was in a sling – and the cautious way he moved, frowning with concentration as he made his way down the stairs.  The man looked up, and the gaze that he leveled at the Sergeant was direct and determined.

"I am called Shepherd Book," the Shepherd replied, reaching the bottom of the stairs.  "I am traveling with these people, and  I wish to speak to you on their behalf."  

He came across the cargo bay, walking slowly but steadily so as not to startle any of the men aiming guns at him.  

"Preacher, this ain't the time for one of your sermons," Mal said quietly, a little annoyed by the Shepherd butting in but relieved also to have a few more minutes to try and think his way out of this mess.  The Shepherd turned a knowing glance on Mal.

"Ye of little faith," he chastised.  "This is the perfect time for a lesson.  Every obstacle in our path is merely another test.  Sergeant, I would like to you consider my request that the crew of this ship be allowed to take some time to rest and heal."  As he spoke, he handed the Sergeant his ident card.  "Please run this through your system.  I have this Captain and his crew to thank for saving my life.  I think there are several of your Alliance soldiers who feel the same way.  This crew deserves to be treated like heroes, Sergeant, not like criminals.  Surely we can come to some compromise?"

Puzzled, but disarmed by the preacher's manner, the Sergeant took the Shepherd's ident card and inserted it into his reader.  His eyes widened.  He glanced up at the preacher and said cautiously, "Shepherd…Book?"

The preacher smiled and inclined his head.  "That is what I am called," he agreed. The Sergeant looked at the screen again, frowned in confusion, and cleared his throat.

"Shepherd, I understand your concern, but I have my orders-"

"And I understand how important it is that you complete your investigation, but you have Governor Xuan's request – and mine – that this crew be given a few hours to themselves to recuperate.  They have undergone a terrible ordeal – voluntarily – to rescue Alliance personnel in circumstances that defy belief.  I know what I am talking about when I say that it was about as close to hell as a man can get without damnation.  Considering the circumstances, it is a very reasonable request.  Shall we give them, say, as long as it takes to get back to Helan?  By then I am sure you will have finished questioning Governor Xuan's men, and your own.  I really must insist that you forward my request to your General, Sergeant."

The Sergeant stared at the Shepherd, looking as though he wanted to say something but was not quite sure what.  His men looked at him and back at Mal and the crew in confusion.  

"I can put your request to the General," the Sergeant agreed finally.  "I cannot promise anything," he added, and walked out of the cargo bay, gesturing to his men to fall back as he did.  

As the Shepherd turned back to join Mal, Wash, Zoe and Jayne, Wash looked from Mal to Book and asked, "What the diyu just happened?"

"We got a little help from a higher power," Mal said with a slight smile, and asked Book, "How'd you know to get up here?"  
The Shepherd glanced over his shoulder to make sure that the soldiers were out of earshot.

"Duvenage," he said briefly.  "He told me what was happening.  Seemed to think that there was something I could do to help."

"That man knows too much," Mal commented blandly.

"He knows just about enough, if you ask me," Wash said.  "Where is he now?"

"He's got his own to worry about," Zoe replied. "Sounded like they were treatin' the Governor's men to a little military-style hospitality too.  Alliance are pretty pissed that we stole their thunder."

"Have to admit, I kinda like that aspect," Mal said with a grin.  "Trouble is, it's gonna get us a whole lot of attention we didn't have before."

"What we gonna do about that?  I ain't intendin' on spendin' all my money on some fancy-assed lawyer t' keep outa jail," Jayne said irritably.

"That ain't gonna happen, so long as no-one get's nervy and starts spoutin' their mouth off," Mal said with a glare at Jayne. "Just speak when you're spoken to an' don't feel the need to say more'n they ask for.  We'll get through this."

"But they want to speak to_ all_ the crew," Wash said significantly.

"Not everyone on this ship is listed as crew, dear," Zoe said to her husband under her breath.

Wash said patiently, "I know that, but someone's gonna be askin' questions, right?  I mean, those soldiers didn't stitch themselves."

"Then we're just gonna have to see if Badger's contacts are as good as he said they were," Mal replied with a shrug.

Jayne grunted in disgust.  "That tamade hundan'd sell his grandmother if he thought someone'd pay."

Mal shrugged one shoulder, his expression grim. "Yeah, but he weren't the one fixin' the idents.  A good forger only gets to be a good forger if he keeps his customers comin' back, not if they're sittin' doin' Alliance time. Just hope they're worth the money I made our good doctor pay for them."

"Sir, most of Badger's contacts crawled from the same dung heap he did," Zoe said in a low voice. "Those documents be fine for gettin' through customs on some border moon, but the kinda scrutiny the Alliance military is likely to give them-"

"Captain!"

Mal and the others turned around, finding the Sergeant stepping through the doors to the cargo bay with several of his men behind him, looking like hounds that'd been beaten off a fox.

"You have your request," the Sergeant said briefly with a nod at the Shepherd.  "The General has agreed that the Firefly will be escorted back to Helan, and your crew may rest until then.  But we will be questioning you once we reach the base, do you understand?"

"Yessir!" Mal said sharply with a loose salute.  "We'll be ready, refreshed an' waitin'.  Give your General our thanks for his consideration."

The Sergeant glowered at him for such irreverence, but before he could leave again Duvenage's voice called, "Sergeant, wait a moment please!"

Everyone looked up to see Duvenage coming down the stairs, striding across the cargo bay without giving Mal and the crew so much as a glance.  As he approached the Sergeant he said, "I would like to come with you.  I wish to be present when you begin questioning my men."

The Sergeant looked annoyed.  "That will not be necessary, Commander.  Our investigators are perfectly capable of conducting themselves with the required degree of professionalism."

"Nevertheless, I would like to be there," Duvenage insisted in his usual calm manner. "As this is merely an investigation and not a criminal proceeding, that is perfectly acceptable, is it not?  I intend to ensure that you have our full cooperation, Sergeant."

The Sergeant chewed on this, then nodded sharply and turned to go.

"Duvenage," Mal said quickly, stepping forward and holding out a hand to forestall his abrupt exit.  "Just wanted to say thanks.  It was good workin' with you."

Duvenage appeared to hesitate, then took his hand.  "Likewise," he said, "But it is I who should be thanking you and your crew.  And I intend to, once we reach Helan."

"Well, we'll have to see how that goes," Mal said. "Alliance've got some questions they'd like us to answer, may take a while."

"Hmm," Duvenage studied him thoughtfully. "Good luck with that."

"Oh, I be feelin' we're gonna be needin' more'n luck," Mal said wryly.

The security chief met the Shepherd's gaze for a moment over Mal's shoulder. "Seems to me you've already got more than luck on your side.  Keep flying, Captain."

He ducked through the cargo bay door and left Serenity.

------------------------------------------

_8 hours later, on board __Alliance__ Cruiser Orion_

Duvenage entered the Governor's quarters, closed the door behind him and paused, keeping himself from sagging back against the wall through sheer willpower.   He had just spent the last eight hours sitting with each of his men in turn as the Alliance took statements and questioned them about the events on board Serenity and Nexus.  The Alliance's questioning had come very close to interrogation, and it had taken all of Duvenage's skill – and that of the men he'd trained – to ensure that the information they provided was enough to satisfy without prompting further investigation. 

"You look like death warmed over," someone commented, and Duvenage looked up to see his employer standing in the doorway leading into the living area.  He smiled slightly.

"Thank you for that observation, sir."

"Come through, sit down," Governor Xuan said, standing aside. "I don't intend to keep you long.  No point me killing you after you've survived a Reaver camp."

Duvenage went through to the other room as instructed, saying as he did so, "I'm glad to hear it, sir.  Actually, I'm feeling a little better than I did coming off the Nexus."  He looked around the room, turned to the Governor and touched his ear.  The Governor cleared his throat, putting his hand over his mouth, then asked, "May I offer you a coffee?  If am to keep you from falling asleep on me I feel I'd probably better."

"Yes, thank you sir," Duvenage murmured, taking a seat.  Their brief exchange of cues had informed him that the room had been checked for surveillance equipment, and that there were both camera and audio devices present.  "How are your grandchildren?" He asked to fill in the silence.  "Both well, I trust."

"Very well, thanks to you and the Captain," Governor Xuan smiled as he busied himself with the coffee machine that he always took with him on his travels for just such occasions, a small luxury that served a dual purpose with the addition of a jamming device in its base.  It would disrupt the surveillance enough to allow them to talk more freely.  He switched it on, and the smell of fresh coffee permeated the room.  "Yuxi is in a stable condition and resting comfortably.  They say that the surgeon who treated him was exceptionally skilled and he should make a full recovery.  Wai-Lan is with her mother, who refuses to leave her side for even a moment.  I believe that with a little time and care, my granddaughter should be well and happy again."

"I am glad to hear it," Duvenage replied.  "But it is not only myself or the Captain you have to thank for their safe return."

"Mmm," the Governor agreed as he handed his security chief a cup of coffee.  There were some names he had no intention of mentioning until they were back on his own boat, jamming device or no jamming device.  "It will be interesting to see what shows up in your blood sample," he said, changing the subject briefly.  "What I really want to know is where the Reavers managed to get hold of the drug.  If it is what we think it is, it would only be available in specialized facilities.  Some of our most recent information suggests that the Serendipity had extensive research and development capabilities.  I must make sure that we have someone on the clean-up crew, perhaps we can learn a little more about what they had planned for the Alliance's flagship," the Governor said as Duvenage sipped his coffee.  "Tell me, what our General Mengitsu and his men are after?"

"They are looking for any information that could possibly discredit the Captain of Serenity and his crew, you, myself, and my men.  They want someone to blame for this debacle, and they're not too fussy about who," Duvenage told him without much concern. The Governor grunted, his expression showing just a hint of irritation.  "And Heaven forbid the blame should go where it belongs," he muttered.  "Ah well, the General has never liked me too much anyway.  He thinks I interfere.  And as for our good Shepherd," the Governor's sudden grin surprised Duvenage, who seldom saw his employer displaying such emotion. "That man has nerve!  I wouldn't have credited it if I hadn't seen the ident myself. We lost track of him after he took his vows and entered the monastery, but I certainly never imagined I'd bump into him again out here.  Do you have any idea what he is doing with this crew?"

"I cannot say," Duvenage replied.  "It seems unlikely that he would have chosen them deliberately, or they him.  The Captain has no love for men of God, and our good Shepherd appears to exhibit a genuine belief in what he preaches.   However, we know that fate plays us some strange hands.  Perhaps he believes that this is his God's way of allowing him to redress past wrongs."

"So you believe that he is practicing what he preaches?"

Duvenage studied his coffee and thought for a moment. "I…do not think that he would deliberately harm any of the crew.  I believe that he is trying to protect them.  But it is a strange coincidence that he is on this particular ship."

"It is stranger still that he risks revealing his identity to come to their aid," the Governor remarked.  "He went to some pains to disappear."

"He and the crew have formed a genuine bond," Duvenage replied. "He appealed to me directly on their behalf on the Nexus.  In fact, the crew evidence quite extraordinary loyalty towards each other and their Captain."

"They would have to, to even consider doing what they did," the Governor muttered.  "And what about this Companion? I am concerned that both she and the Shepherd appealed to you.  I hope you are not becoming careless in your old age."

Duvenage took a sip of coffee and frowned.  "The Shepherd I believe suspected me for being one of your employees.  He still has people within the Alliance who may keep him informed, although I understand that he has had little contact with any of them for some time.  It may be that his new found loyalty has prompted him to renew some of the old ties.  As for the Companion, I believe she made the appeal as a last resort.  You know that Companions undergo training not dissimilar to my own.  That is what makes them such useful sources.  I imagine that Ms Serra surmised something of my training, drew conclusions about my work, and took a calculated risk."  At the Governor's questioning look, Duvenage elaborated.  "Should I have reported her to the Alliance, she would have some immunity from suspicion as a result of her Companion status.  Her loyalties are to her House first, not to the Captain.  She could also claim that she made the appeal out of gratitude for the substantial risk the Captain and his crew took in rescuing her.  That and the House's influence would likely protect her from any accusations of collusion."

The Governor grunted, "The House Madrasse has too many ears, and I do not like that she may be able to identify you." 

"I use an alias in the House, my name would mean nothing to her," the security chief said to reassure his employer before adding, "I would like to consider recruiting her."

The Governor looked surprised.  "For what purpose?  I thought you said we had enough Companions providing us with information.  And you know what politics is like in the House, we can never be sure of anyone's loyalties."

"That is where Ms. Serra becomes interesting," Duvenage explained.  "Actually, I have been considering her since she left the House.  Having had some time to observe her and this crew, I believe that she could be invaluable to us."  The Governor raised an eyebrow, intrigued, allowing Duvenage to continue.  "We have no-one out here on the rim with the kind of access to those who hold power that we need.  We are dealing with the warlord mentality, petty fiefdoms, people who have no reason to trust the Alliance or anyone connected with it.  We need to know where loyalties lie, who can be trusted, who can be bought and for how much. We need to know how strong the Alliance's influence out here is, and how strong the residual support for the Independents may be.  This is where the Companion's alliance with Serenity's Captain could prove invaluable.  It gives her credibility with anyone opposed to the Alliance that we could never hope to have."

"But she left Serenity," the Governor pointed out.  "She left our Independent hero, Captain Malcolm Reynolds.  Does that not mean her loyalties lie with the House?"

Duvenage shook his head.  "She left Serenity, yes, but I believe it had nothing to do with her loyalty to the House.  I also believe that I could persuade her to return."  He smiled a little.  "In fact, I think she may be looking for a reason to do so, one that would outweigh the considerations of her profession and the strictures of the House." 

The Governor was silent, staring into space as he considered.  "You make a good case for it," he conceded.  "Perhaps I will offer Ms. Serra passage back to wherever it is that she intends to go from Helan.  That would give us both a chance to study her more closely, and I'm sure it would delight my granddaughter."  He smiled indulgently.  "Wai-Lan has developed quite a regard for the Companion, and I believe that Ms. Serra is very fond of her.  That could prove useful.  First, however, we have to make sure that our Independent Captain remains independent.  We have some preparations to make."  He stood up purposefully, and Duvenage noted the slightly smug look on his employer's face.

"What did you have in mind?"  He asked.

The Governor smiled as enigmatically as his employee. "The lesser of two evils."

----------------------------------------------------------


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's note – **well, so much for this being the last chapter. Looks like my muse felt I hadn't said all that needed saying, so there will be another one. Also, I would like to say a bit 'thank you!' to Neroli for beta-ing this chapter (my first every beta for my first ever fic), and a huge and very belated thanks to all those who have been so kind as to review my work before this. I'm learning how this fanfic thing works as I go along – it has been a steep learning curve, let me tell you – and I really should've thanked you all for your support a long time before this. It has been invaluable.

**Things Fall Apart – Chapter 14**

_Serenity, approaching landfall_

Most of Serenity's return trip to Helan was spent in debate about what to do when they got there and the brief respite from Alliance attention ended. Simon was all for making a run for it with River as soon as they touched down. Jayne thought that was the best idea Simon had had since he stepped on board, but Mal and Zoe vetoed it immediately. There was no way that Simon and River could make it off the ship unnoticed. An attempt to escape would immediately make them suspect, which would in turn implicate the ship and the rest of the crew. That was aside from the difficulties of moving a still-unconscious River.

Eventually, the crew came to the reluctant conclusion that they were going to have to try and bluff this one out using the fake ident bought from one of Badger's contacts. If Simon wasn't anywhere to be found and questions were asked about the ship's doctor, then Serenity would be searched for sure. They installed River in the safest possible hidey-hole, close to Serenity's generator and consequently hot, noisy and uncomfortable, but the most likely place to be missed if some _hundan_ in the Alliance command decided to order a thermal scan of the ship. Wash did some creative work on the datalogs just in case they were requisitioned, although tampering with a ships data recorder would get the pilot and the captain a hefty fine and a jail sentence. Zoe promised them both she'd keep Serenity running while they were doing their time.

No one was under any illusions about the likelihood of their plan succeeding, and by the time they were ready to break Helan's atmosphere the mood on Serenity had become grim and brittle with tension. Mal, Zoe, Wash and Jayne waited out the journey down to the surface on the bridge.

"I think this is the best course of action, sir," Zoe said over the noise of Serenity's descent. "They gotta have probable cause to run a thermal scan, an' no-one's gonna believe we was smuggling Reavers."

"This is the Alliance military," Mal said briefly. "Probable cause is for civilians. This General don't seem to be too fond of us neither."

"Least we got God on our side," Jayne quipped. "Never knew military t' pay that much attention to a preacher before. Maybe he c'n keep 'em from searchin' us."

"Maybe," Mal replied without much conviction. It was something he'd been holding on to in the back of his mind, but he dared not trust that the Shepherd could provide them with another reprieve. Unfortunately, even Governor Xuan's influence seemed to be waning. He wondered what Duvenage would tell the military about River and Simon. He hoped nothing, but several of Duvenage's men had seen them bring River off the station. It was too much to hope that her presence would never be mentioned.

No-one spoke as Wash eased Serenity off her initial dive into a gentler flight path that would bring them up on the Alliance camp. Mal noted that Wash was flying as slowly as possible, almost as though he was hoping for some divine intervention to strike before they got there. The mood the gods were in, Mal only hoped that it wouldn't be lightning. The sky was a brilliant sea of blue, pink and gold as they flew into the setting sun, leaving the bridge awash in amber light, something Mal had seen a hundred times before but still found beautiful. He felt a stupidly maudlin pang at the thought that he probably wouldn't be seeing it again, and gritted his teeth. There was no way this side of hell that he was going to let the Alliance destroy everything he'd spent the last few years building. There had to be some way out of this.

"This is Firefly Serenity calling Alliance Base control tower, requesting permission to land," Wash said over the com.

"This is Alliance control, you are cleared to land. Welcome back, Serenity."

Wash raised his eyebrows at the uncharacteristic greeting. "Well, it seems like someone's pleased to see us," he remarked to the silent bridge. The Alliance camp was coming into view, a stretch of low buildings, a landing site still cluttered with ships of various descriptions and several acres of tents. The landing site was ablaze with floodlights, and in the glare, those on Serenity's bridge could make out a sizeable crowd.

"What's goin' on down there?" Mal asked.

Wash frowned and checked the monitors. "Don't know, Cap'n. Looks like there's a lot of people standing around waiting for something."

"I've been a mite lonesome of late, but I ain't blind," Mal retorted. "What're they doin' at the landing site? Alliance enforced radio silence, no-one's supposed to know we're comin'."

"Maybe they're waitin' to hear news of the folks who were missin'," Zoe said. "Ain't no army I know ever managed to keep people from hopin' for a miracle."

"They'd stand there for three days?" Jayne asked, incredulous.

"Some of 'em would stand there a week, months, sometimes even years if they thought someone'd be comin' back," Zoe told him.

Jayne snorted in disbelief.

Wash was frowning at the monitor as they drew closer. "Uh, Cap'n," he said cautiously. "I think maybe someone broke radio silence."

Mal leant over and squinted at what it was that Wash was looking at. His eyes widened. "Wu den ma…." he breathed, "You may be right."

"_Bunting_," Wash said incredulously. "They've got bunting!" At that moment, something brilliant shot up ahead of Serenity's nose and light flared, startling all of them. Wash's jaw sagged open. "And fireworks! Where'd they get fireworks?"

"Sir, what's happenin'?" Zoe asked urgently, looking utterly confused.

"It's a gorramned parade!" Mal said. "They're welcomin' us in with a gorramned parade!"

The closer Serenity came, the more it became obvious that this was what the crowd below had been waiting for. More fireworks followed the first, forcing Jayne to desert the bridge, his nerves shot. As Serenity swept in to land, streamers and flags fluttered in the rush of air kicked up from her engines. Alliance flags, but Mal and those on the bridge were too amazed to care. Before they touched down, it occurred to Mal that he'd better warn the rest of those on board about the reception waiting for them. He went through to the mess, finding Jayne regaling a disbelieving Simon, Book, and Inara with the story. All three turned to him asking a gabble of questions. Mal held up his hands.

"I don't know," he said as a general disclaimer. "It seems like someone told the camp we're comin' and they decided to welcome us in. I don't know what it means, but until we have a better idea we stick to the plan," he gave Simon a significant stare.

"But won't the crowd be of help to us?" Simon asked eagerly. "It'd be easy enough to slip into it and disappear-"

"Carrying River?" Mal asked, and Simon's face fell.

"Oh," he said despondently. Then he rallied. "But it'd make it a lot harder for the Alliance to follow us, wouldn't it?"

"Where would you be goin'?" Mal asked him. "You're in the middle of an Alliance camp. The nearest town is miles away, an' you'd be on foot carrying your sister. How far do you think you'd get?"

Simon subsided, glaring at Mal for crushing his hopes.

"But Mal, isn't there some way you can use this?" Inara asked him quietly. "The Alliance didn't want anyone to know you were coming because they want time to question you. If people know you're here, if they know your story, you'll be heroes. It'll make it that much harder for the Alliance to mistreat you."

Mal had been thinking exactly that, but the thought of pimping himself to the masses just stuck in his throat. He studied Inara, disconcerted to see her dressed in Kaylee's clothes. Wearing baggy trousers, a faded top, no make-up and with her hair down, she looked about sixteen. It had him all sorts of uncomfortable. "I'm not the one for sellin' myself to folks," he said, surprising himself with how harsh it sounded. Inara went still, her eyes widening slightly, but before she could gather herself to retaliate, Simon did it for her.

"This is a fine time to decide you've got a set of scruples," he snapped. "River's life is at stake! If they take her back, she will die. She'll find a way to die. And if we're _lucky_, the rest of us will go to jail for the rest of our lives. We need all the help we can get. What the hell's wrong with you?" Abruptly, he turned and stormed out of the mess. In the silence that followed, Inara gave Mal a cold look and said, "When you've decided what you intend to do with the rest of our lives, let me know." Her head high, she followed after Simon.

"Well, you handled that with your usual flare," Shepherd Book remarked, folding his arms and leveling a look at Mal.

"Don't," Mal said. "Just…don't."

"Oh, far be it for tell you how to go about saving your pee goo," the Shepherd replied. "I'm sure you've thought of something else by now, something a lot less dangerous and a lot more restrained than any of your usual plans."

Mal gave him a hard stare and retreated to the bridge. Zoe glanced at him curiously as he came in and asked, "Problem, sir?"

"We stick to the plan," Mal said defensively.

"Yes sir," Wash said, giving Zoe a puzzled look.

At that moment, a voice issued from the com. "Serenity, this is Alliance cruiser Orion. You are to land immediately and your crew is to remain on board until further notice. Repeat, no-one is to exit Serenity. Do you copy?"

"Copy that, Orion, we land and stay on board," Wash replied. When he switched off the com he remarked, "He didn't say we couldn't open the doors and have a chat with those good folks, now did he?"

------------------------------------------------

_Landing field, Helan __Alliance__ Base_

The glare of the floodlights made it difficult to see what was going on outside the cargo bay doors, but Mal, Zoe, Wash, Jayne, Kaylee and Inara could just about make out the throng of people pushing forward, and the woefully understaffed Alliance soldiers struggling to hold them back. Mal was mortified to find that a lot of the people in the front row seemed to be carrying cameras. Flashes were going off like tracer fire.

"Looks like someone told the press we were comin'," Zoe remarked.

"Smile, people, your pictures are goin' the length and breadth of this 'verse," Wash said out of the corner of his mouth, grinning like an idiot.

"Three cheers for Serenity!" Someone shouted from the front of the crowd, and the cry was quickly taken up. The crew stared out at the cheering crowd in stunned silence.

"Hey, we're big damned heroes!" Jayne said, puffing out his chest and smirking.

"Shiny!" Kaylee commented, waving happily. "Wonder if my dad'll see this?"

Mal felt his heart quail. Inara, who stood next to him, seemed uncharacteristically hesitant about stepping forward into the glare of the lights. He heard her mutter, "Oh diyu, they're never going to let me forget this."

Kaylee glanced at her and laughed. "Don't be silly, why do you care what they think anyway? Just smile."

Inara exchanged a look with Mal, and they shared the realization that they'd both rather be just about anywhere else right now. That surprised him. He'd have thought she would have relished the chance of a moment in the spotlight. The quick exchange reminded him sharply of the handful of other occasions when she'd dropped the pretense and allowed him to see her honest reaction. Much of their time on board the Nexus had been like that, and Mal missed their rapport with an intensity that startled him. He knew he'd damaged the fragile trust between them with his comment to her earlier, and he truly regretted it now. He didn't want to go back to the way things used to be between them, before the Heart of Gold and the Nexus. Almost without thinking, Mal said quietly, "I'm sorry."

Inara turned startled eyes up to his, and Mal felt a further twist of regret to see how unexpected his apology was. It shouldn't have been, and it made him angry to realize that she was less surprised by his poor treatment. Even his crew expected more of him than she did. How had he let it get that bad?

Zoe lent a little closer to Mal and said under her breath, "Alliance ain't gonna like this. Gonna make it a whole lot harder for us to disappear."

"Yup," Mal agreed, dragging his attention back to the noisy crowd and the floodlit landing field with difficulty. "I figure we've got about ten minutes before they get more troops down here and clear this crowd."

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?" Zoe asked him, keeping her expression bland as she studied the landing site intently.

Mal glanced at Inara again, seeing her watching him with wary confusion. "I'm thinkin' it looks like we got a whole lot more people on our side than we had an hour ago," he said, and squinted against the glare of the lights as he checked the perimeter for any sign of Alliance reinforcements.

"That's what I'm thinkin'," Zoe remarked. "You up for a little rabble rousin'?"

Mal shrugged and said wryly, "Ain't got nuthin' better to do."

He stepped forward to the edge of the ramp, and the nearest Alliance soldiers looked between him and the crowd as though trying to decide which one posed the greatest threat. Mal nodded genially to the soldiers and raised a hand to greet the crowd. _Forget about the cameras,_ he thought to himself._ Just say what needs sayin' and get your people the hell outta here._ An expectant hush fell. __

"On behalf of myself an' my crew, I jus' wanna say thank you to you all for comin' out here," Mal said, raising his voice to make sure everyone could hear. "You've made us feel more'n welcome. I have to admit we were expectin' somethin' a little different. If we'd'a known we were gonna be on camera, we'd've tried to make ourselves a little more presentable."

There was scattered laughter, and Mal relaxed a little. Several of the reporters in the front row began shouting questions, and Mal held up his hand again until the crowd quietened down again. "Sorry, didn't quite catch that," he said.

"Are you Captain Malcolm Reynolds?" One reporter asked.

"That I am. This here is my ship, Serenity, and her crew," Mal turned to indicate those standing behind him. He met Inara's wary gaze and smiled just a little, "An' the Companion Inara Serra, who was on board the Nexus 7 and is travellin' with us a while."

As the tide of attention swept their way, Jayne, Wash and Kaylee grinned and waved madly. Inara stood very still, an enigmatic smile on her face, looking a little like a deer caught in gun sights. Zoe carefully surveyed the perimeter. Mal waited for the cheering to die down, finding that despite himself, he was quite touched by the crowd's enthusiasm. But Zoe's careful study of the landing field had reminded him of how little time they had. He addressed the crowd again.

"I know the Alliance had this sector locked down pretty tight, so maybe you didn't get to hear a whole lot about what happened on board the Nexus 7. I know there's probably all sorts of rumours flyin' around about who attacked the station an' why, but what's important is that they're gone and they ain't gonna be comin' back anytime soon."

"Who were they?" Someone asked, "Was it Reavers?"

Mal became serious and nodded, "Yup, it was." There were gasps and a few fearful cries, and Mal had to raise his voice to carry over them. "But they turned tail an' ran as soon as they knew the Alliance were comin'. Can't say as I blame them for that."

"Were there any more survivors?" Another voice asked.

"We didn't find any," Mal replied shortly. The less said about the women and children the Reavers had taken the better. No point putting their families through that as well.

"We heard that the Alliance arrested you an' your crew," one of the reporters shouted from the front. "Is that true?"

There was a distant rumbling of engines and a stirring at the back of the crowd. Mal squinted against the glare of the floodlights, but couldn't see anything more than shadows.

"Cap'n, I think our time's runnin' out," Zoe said in a low voice.

Mal nodded to show he'd heard her and answered the reporter's question. "Well, they're sayin' they jus' wanna ask a few questions, but they made it pretty clear we ain't goin' nowhere until they've asked them. They also sure ain't keen on us to be talkin' to you folks," he said, aiming his most charming smile at the front row of the crowd where the cameras were thickest. "I think they're a mite jealous myself, seein' as how we had the balls to do what they didn't. Personally, I don't give a damn. I ain't gonna let no Reavers be attackin' me an' mine without I'm goin' to do somethin' about it, an' I ain't about to apologize for it neither."

There were mutters of agreement from the crowd and a spatter of applause, but Mal could also hear see purposeful movement in the darkness at the edge of the floodlit field. Several ground transports were heading their way, and he could see those at the back turning to have a look at what was causing the noise. Only moments later, an official-sounding voice came over a loudspeaker system on one of the vehicles, drowning out the reporters' questions.

"This is Captain Nagamori of the Alliance Military Police. No unauthorized personnel are permitted on the landing field. Please return to the designated civilian areas immediately. I repeat, no unauthorized personnel are permitted on the landing field. Anyone found on the landing field without authorization will be arrested and charged. You are asked to disperse immediately."

"Took them long enough," Mal muttered to himself. Typical Alliance arrogance, not seeing this coming. He felt a grim satisfaction at seeing the reporters eagerly taking it all in.

"Why do you think they want to question you?" One of them asked, having to shout to be heard over the din of engines and the loudspeaker.

"Figure they're lookin' for someone to blame," Mal said with a shrug. "Best way to draw attention off of how they screwed up is ta have a handy scapegoat. Since they ain't managed to catch themselves any Reavers, might as well blame it on the browncoats."

"Will you be speaking to the press about your ordeal on board the Nexus?" Another asked, but before Mal could answer the loudspeaker cut across them.

"Crew of Serenity, you are to close your cargo bay doors and remain on board until further notice. You are not to make contact with anyone outside Alliance Command. Failure to comply will result in your arrest and charge under the current State of Emergency provisions. Do you understand?"

Mal scratched his head, thought about it some, and just when he knew the Alliance were about to get rough, said calmly, "Sounds pretty clear to me. Guess we'll be doin' that then." Without acknowledging the reporters, who were jabbering questions at his back, Mal turned and strode back up the ramp, saying to the others as he passed by, "You heard the man, move yourselves. Don't wanna be givin' them any more reasons to be arrestin' us."

When everyone was back inside, Mal closed the cargo bay doors, faced the crew and smiled broadly.

"I get a kick out of pissin' 'em off," he remarked.

Both Zoe and Inara raised eyebrows. "Think it worked?" Zoe asked.

Mal shrugged. "Too early to tell."

"I'd like to know who told them we were coming," Shepherd Book said from the walkway above the cargo bay. "It sounded like someone had been briefing them about our situation."

"One time I ain't gonna complain about how reporters know what it is that they know," Zoe murmured.

Mal grinned at her. "I ain't lookin' a gift horse in the mouth. Wash, get onto the cortex, I want to know what's goin' on as soon as the rest of the 'verse does. We're gonna be playin' a waitin' game for a while, so everyone might as well find a way to keep themselves busy. No tellin' how long this is gonna take to play out. Like I said, we don't wanna be givin' them any excuses to be arrestin' us right now, so nobody do anythin'-" Mal gave each of them a long, hard look, "anythin' without you check it with me first. You got that?"

For once, no-one seemed inclined to argue.

----------------------------------------

_Alliance Cruiser Orion_

Governor Xuan could tell that General Mengitsu was furious, although the General was trying very hard to control himself. The Governor bowed politely and waited for the General to acknowledge him. The General continued reviewing the files that his Lieutenant Colonel had brought to him, letting the Governor cool his heals for a few minutes, long enough to remind him who's turf they were standing on. The Governor smiled inwardly. In some ways, the General was utterly predictable.

"Governor," General Mengitsu said eventually. "You wish to take your leave of us, I hear."

"Yes, thank you General. I would like to take my family home as soon as possible."

"I am sure you would. However, we have yet to conclude our investigations into the incident at Nexus 7."

There was a heavy pause. The Governor noticed that Lieutenant Colonel Stuart was keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the palmtop the Governor had returned to him, apparently absorbed with studying the readout. Wondering why the General had not dismissed the man, the Governor hesitated before asking politely, "I was given to understand that you had finished questioning both my grandson and my employees."

"The crew of the Firefly must still be questioned. You have admitted that you were responsible for hiring them as mercenaries to board Nexus 7 without Alliance sanction. We may need to question you further on this."

Governor Xuan watched General Mengitsu carefully. Where was he going with this? "I hired them to help me rescue my grandchildren," he said calmly.

"An action which went against the directive of the Alliance Military, which stated that no civilian personnel were to make any attempt to approach the Nexus 7," General Mengitsu snapped back.

Keeping himself from sighing with irritation, Governor Xuan replied, "We have already been through this, General. I have explained my actions to you not once, but several times. I am perfectly willing to accept responsibility for my decision, and I will defend it in court if necessary. My men were equipped, ready and willing to mount a rescue attempt, and your refusal to accept our help put the lives of your soldiers – one of whom happened to be my grandson – at unnecessary risk."

The General waved a hand, impatiently dismissing the Governor's argument. "You have gone too far this time, Governor Xuan. You have leaked confidential information concerning this incident to the press and compromised our investigation. That is twice you have flouted the Alliance's directives in this matter and I will be making damned sure that you are charged this time."

Governor Xuan allowed another pause to emphasize his indignant surprise. "You are accusing me of being responsible for what is happening on your base?"

"I know you are responsible for this, Governor!" The General was so angry that he wasn't even bothering to hide it. "You have made it perfectly clear where you stand on this matter and your lack of co-operation has not gone unnoticed. Such flagrant disregard for the Alliance's interests will not be tolerated!"

Lieutenant Colonel Stuart seemed very uncomfortable, which the Governor found quite enlightening. He drew himself up and snapped back, "I am shocked and dismayed at this accusation, General. I deny it outright. I have made no attempt to contact the press, nor have I mentioned anything that I may have seen or heard to anyone not on this ship. Your accusations are completely unfounded and I demand an apology."

"You made three calls," the General retorted icily. "Two to your private secretary and one to your ship's captain. In your call to your ship's captain, you provided him with an itinerary and asked him to file a flight plan, clearly specifying the dates and times you wished to leave Helan and the number of people who would be traveling with you."

The Governor was careful to look startled at this, and glanced again at the Lieutenant Colonel as though he was embarrassed that he was being accused in front of an underling. Furious, he asked, "You tapped my personal calls?"

The General frowned. "You are on an Alliance cruiser," he said irritably. "All calls are routinely monitored for security purposes, are they not Lieutenant Colonel?"

Lieutenant Colonel Stuart cleared his throat and nodded, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the opposite wall.

There was a third pause as the Governor studied General Mengitsu and thought not for the first time that the man's arrogance was his greatest weakness. Had the General been willing to accept help from local sources, a rescue attempt could have been mounted in less than a day, and it was highly likely that more lives could have been saved. But the General's utter disregard for any offer of help, his dismissal of the local militia as a bunch of backwater Independent trash, had meant a three-day wait for those trapped on board the Nexus. Governor Xuan _was_ furious, but not for the reasons the General assumed.

"General, if you review the transcripts of my calls you will notice that I did not once mention the Firefly or her crew. Neither my Captain nor my personal secretary knew that the Orion was escorting Serenity back to Helan, and I certainly did not instruct them to contact the press. However, I believe that your staff made several calls to the base, confirming that the wounded soldiers were being brought in so that medical care could be arranged. If you are looking for a leak, I would suggest that you start there."

"No one in Alliance command would dare such a thing!" The General snapped.

Governor Xuan narrowed his eyes. "General, a space station has been crippled. Several hundred people were evacuated and perhaps hundreds of lives lost, including family of some of the most powerful members of the Alliance military. The Serendipity, the Alliance's flagship and the subject of numerous news broadcasts and documentaries, has been destroyed before she could even make her maiden voyage. All of this was accomplished by Reavers, who's atrocities regularly make the evening news in the Core worlds, although the Alliance refuses to acknowledge them as a legitimate threat. How exactly did you intend to keep the rest of the 'verse from noticing what was happening out here?"

There was little left to say after that. Although General Mengitsu continued to deny that anyone in the Alliance might possibly be responsible for the leak to the press, it was clear that his anger had overcome his good sense in making the accusation to the Governor directly. Governor Xuan kept his temper through the rest of the General's diatribe, simply requesting that he be given leave to return to his family, and soon found himself dismissed.

Governor Xuan left the General's office with the knowledge that he had won this battle, but in doing so he had also won himself a ruthless and determined enemy. His list of allies within the Alliance was growing thin indeed, and this one small victory would not win the war. The struggle for power was so delicately balanced between the opposing forces within the Alliance and the external pressures of maintaining control of such a vast and diverse number of worlds that at this moment, the Governor could not have predicted who would be left standing at the end of it. He could understand why it was that some within the Alliance had risked so much, had stepped beyond the bounds of what was moral or ethical and done whatever it was to those children. Not for the first time he felt a pang of regret that they could not risk contact with the doctor or his sister, not at this time. Still, it was oddly comforting to know that his enemies' weapons against the future had proved so unpredictable, so human. Perhaps in that there was enough of the hand of God for him to take comfort, if only for a time.

**End of Chapter 14.******


End file.
